Robin's Gotham
by Silirt
Summary: Batman has a plan for everything. This story is essentially about Robin learning to be his own man, on a tour de force of the injustice of Gotham.
1. Final Protocol 1

The unthinkable occurred.

Grayson's mind was racing, _racing-_ as if for the first time in the history of the world, the term truly described what he saw. Grabbing a gun off the floor, he slung it at the killer. Gotham somehow being functional despite the unending bloodbath of its history, that was unthinkable, but people had time to get used to the idea, it was impossible, after all this time, that the productivity and working order of the city were an illusion. The weapon flew threw the air, cracking the skull in a world where all seemed silent for a moment. His own life, his lifelong response to the death of his parents, had been unthinkable, to the police who discovered their bodies, to the detective and doctor who questioned him, even to himself at times, to join in righteous force of will in the crusade against the evil of Gotham. He knew not if Deadshot had died from the impact to his skull, the thought never entered his mind. The identity and life of Robin, however, would never have surprised his parents, in the short time he had known them it seemed that he would always live exactly up to their expectations- surprising or disappointing them was, of course, unthinkable. Forcing himself to think, he remembered that Batman had already called in medical assistance for the hostages.

He stared down at the unimaginable, the inconceivable, the unthinkable, Batman, drowning in his own blood.

"All targets are down-" The words came out of his mouth one at a time. "Stop the bleeding-" He was already holding the wound closed.

"Dick-"

"Stop talking!" He shouted. "The ambulance is on its way!"

"There isn't time. The bullet-" Blood, blood, how much had he lost? "- it was designed to kill. I can feel the toxin-"

"You are not dying!" Perhaps he could convince himself, keep the unthinkable out of his mind. Batman tore the symbol off his chest with labored breath. "What are you doing?" Robin asked, barely above a whisper-

"I never told you-" He weakly extended the black bat to his partner. "But you probably-" He coughed again.

"No, I didn't- I had no idea-" _I'm not you._ Grabbing the symbol out of loyalty, he turned to see the sirens of the police cars and the ambulances, the red and blue light that engulfed the body.

"Oh, God, no-" It was Gordon's voice. "If one of you goddamned hacks touches that mask, I'll shoot you. Get him in the ambulance." He walked over to where Robin was crouched on the ground. "What the- What happened here, Robin?"

"Deadshot- he's over there. He- We've been following this series of suspicious activity among the villains. Professor Pyg was first- you saw it." Gordon nodded. 48 hours ago, the psychopath had projected a display of hacked up, disfigured faces on the emergency broadcasting channel. What was strange was that he was using a sculptor to do the job where previously he had done it by hand. He gave his little insane, inaudible drivel about his creations before the channel cut out entirely. "Clayface was next." Batman was carefully loaded onto the ambulance, where Robin motioned for the commissioner to follow him. "He was faster than before, he nearly killed both of us- it took more freeze grenades than usual to bring him down, but mostly because he was dodging them."

"You can't be in here." The EMS worker said as though he had just stepped in.

"He's a friend of Batman-"

"I was talking to both of you. Clear." The electricity pulsed through Wayne's body with force, moving him like a doll. He gasped.

"Robin- read it-" The heartbeat monitor was all over the place.

"Sir, you have to relax-" Life was leaving him and Robin could see it. Pinching a nerve in his own hand to prevent tears from forming, he turned over the symbol in his hand. _Instructions. Of course._

For the last few moments of his life, Batman simply stared at him. Perhaps he saw a truly pitiable boy, not nearly equipped to face the coming trials and the toils that lied still beyond. Perhaps he saw a man, ready for what horrors may come and his eyes gleamed with pride one last time before they darkened.

Whatever he saw, he revealed nothing.

Gordon closed his eyes, unable to keep from crying. "He was the best of any of us, better than this town deserves- he'll live on as a symbol- wait, where's the one on his chest?"

"I have it." The police commissioner stared at him for a moment.

"Good. If anyone needs it-" He trailed off, lost in thought before resuming. "Look, if there's anything, else you need-" he began, omitting the obvious _off the body of Batman._

 _"_ Not really, but it's better to keep this from our enemies." He detached the utility belt, preventing the electrical defense mechanism from activating.

"Good thinking, kid. I don't know how you do it- I don't know how he did it."

 _We've been through this before._

Robin said nothing. He mentally relived the last few hours, silently taking out Deadshot's henchmen. All were armed to the teeth, outfitted with elite optic deflection armor, and equipped with portable heat imaging scanners.

"Look, I know what he was to you." Gordon began, snapping him back to the present. _Do you?_ "He was like a father to you." The idea gave him pause. "There will be no desecration, I'll make sure of it. We can't put up a memorial, it would only be a target, but the body-"

"Burn the body. Do it as soon as possible. It's the only way to protect his identity for the short amount of time we have." He interrupted, reading the back of the bat. _I can't stand to see him like this, anyway._ "I have to go- now." It was true enough.

He found the Batmobile in the street, armor activated. He had never driven it, not alone, but at fourteen he was old enough to be learning from Alfred or Bruce, whatever opportunity presented itself. The faithful butler would not leave his mind as he drove through town and out of it, making sure it was seen. News of the death would spread quickly, but he would do whatever he could to confuse the public as long as possible. Activating Batman's Justice League communicator, he was greeted by the face of Superman.

"Robin. What-"

"Falsify a report of Batman's whereabouts. He's offworld, on a mission with the League."

"May I ask why?" This was not a question.

"Because- He's dead. I'm trying to keep people from realizing it. It'll be impossible to contain soon-"

"Son, we'll handle it. It seems you've got something you need to do, so I'll leave you to it. After that, we'll talk." Robin disconnected after nodding, seeing an opportunity to end the conversation.

"Damn." Looking at the bat again, he noticed he had passed over the first instruction without reading it.

 _Don't panic._ The second of course instructed him to burn the body, though it only confirmed what he had been thinking at the time.

 _Destroy the evidence._ Deciding Bruce had put them in order for a reason, he took the cave entrance when he reached the manor, skidding the vehicle to a halt. The cave had been mined years ago, ready to collapse in the event that they both gave it up or intruders made it inside. Whether they would survive or not would be up to them. He loaded up the car with what he needed. An untraceable laptop, containing all the necessary data from the Batcomputer, which he would have to manually destroy. One of the batsuits went into the trunk, along with an assortment of gear, deciding it may be necessary for a League member to impersonate Batman. Going through Batman's contingencies, he took only the piece of Kryptonite, doubting he could ever properly use a Yellow Lantern ring and hating the entire idea anyway.

"Master Grayson?"

"Alfred?" Robin responded, stalling, as he threw spares of his own gear into the back seat.

"I would under normal circumstances ask what possesses you to heave a moiety of Master Wayne's worldly possessions into his vehicle, but you have a visitor."

 _"This is bad._ " Robin hissed. "Alfred- anything small enough to go into the Batmobile, essential things, things we can't replace- I'll deal with this visitor." He said, almost growling as his staff extended. Firing his grappling hook to get to the entrance to the manor, his mind raced through all possibilities of who could have puzzled out the situation with such speed.

"My apologies, it appears I have the responsibilities of a butler confused with those of a batman." The play on words was of course lost on Grayson, not knowing what a batman was, apart from something not a part of him, but something of which he was a part. The house had a speaker on the doorbell, which could be reached by a telephone in the main hall.

"Speak." Robin began in his usual voice. It was certainly suspicious for Robin to be in Wayne Manor, but it couldn't get much worse than it was. Anyone who had requested to see him personally knew of Batman's demise.

"Umm- hello? I was supposed to ask for a 'Dick Grayson' if Bruce Wayne couldn't come to the door?"

"Ask for what?" Robin asked as he left Batman's radio next to the phone, making his way to the door.

"Training? He didn't mention it?"

"We've been busy. We're busy now."

"But he isn't here? Look, I have already talked this over with him-" she began as she opened the door, which had not at any point been locked. "-and what the hell are you doing with the utility belt?" Robin's eyes flashed with rage.

"What the hell are _you_ doing opening the damn door?!"

"Calm down!- I know what this stuff is, I have experience-"

"You're Gordon's daughter."

"I have a name too."

"I don't know it. I also don't know how you learned of any of this, why you've been contacted by Batman or Bruce Wayne, but I don't have time for it right now." _She knows too much and I can't risk her getting captured. I need a plan._

Robin ignored the first half of her response as he scanned the back of the symbol for any mention of her, though given it was doubtful Bruce knew the exact time of his death, training the girl probably would not be on there. Either way, he had higher priorities.

"-which is why I am here. I have had training-" Robin punched her in the abdomen.

"Not enough." As she started back, he leaped over her, pinning her to the ground and forcing the air out of her lungs. "Look, I don't know what arrangement you had- I'm not Batman. You want training? Practice staying out of sight for the next few days. Consider this a very large scale game of hide and go seek. Until I can look for you, I'm not going to be any more use to you than Batman."

"And just where-"

"He's dead." The girl's eyes widened. "Your father knows, but he won't tell you. If any part of this gets out, I'm breaking every bone in your body."

"But if he- how will you-"

"I'm working on it." He stood, seeing Alfred, who stood silently.

"Master- Robin. Young ladies are-"

"She knows, Alfred." In response the doggedly loyal old man's face immediately straightened.

"Then these are truly not normal circumstances." The world seemed to go silent as he spoke. "I urge you, Master Grayson, whatever Master Wayne had planned, you are not ready for it. There is no shame in accepting that a young man cannot save Gotham without outside aid." Robin did not ask how he knew; it was unnecessary.

"He left me instructions. Have we destroyed the evidence connected to Fox?" He realized the Gordon girl had already left. _Good._

"Not yet. You'll find the vehicle equipped with all its usual and occasional armaments." Alfred began as they returned to the cave.

"I'll need a place to hide it in the city."

"That will not be feasible, Master Grayson, unless your intention is to park it where you will be living and leave it there for the foreseeable future."

"That's the plan."

"In that case, I would recommend the 'chop shop' of the late Vincent Falcone. As there are rumors that it is haunted, you may remain unmolested for a fortnight or so. As I was saying, I have included what existed of Project: Batgirl, mostly standard equipment. I trust the young lady already has a costume?"

"I can only imagine." Robin was beginning to recall an imitator Batman had mentioned, one he multiple times attempted to dissuade from the act. He had omitted that she was a girl a few years older than himself. "Alfred, before I go, before we...destroy everything here-"

"Master Wayne forbade me to imagine this day. He never failed to dismiss my concerns for his well-being, and for that he earned them, every night with his heroics. All the same, I made plans." The butler explained as he activated the demolition countdown. "He and I have tickets to the continent, as well as the necessary pecuniary measures to ensure adequate witnesses of his presence, though he will of course be played by an actor." Alfred turned to leave for the manor's garage, where Dick expected that he would select the Rolls Royce, a favorite of his, turn the lights off before leaving and mindfully close the garage door, as always.

"Alfred, I'm sorry."

"There's no need, my dear boy. You'll find, though, that there's room in the Rolls for three." Robin stood there silently for a moment as the countdown blared in the background of his mind. Alfred nodded and set on his way back up to the manor.

"I don't think I can ever thank-"

"As ever, Master Grayson, there is no need." The lights darkened in the cave, but he lost no time getting in the Batmobile and stepping on it. Less than a mile out, he heard the explosion. He was certain the computer was entirely destroyed, beyond even the most advanced systems of data recovery. As he checked the bat he wondered if there had been a mechanism for destroying the tyrannosaurus, or the giant penny for that matter.

 _Make a decision now._ He figured that unless the symbol referred to getting on the upcoming turnpike, he had already done it and there was no going back.

 _Keep the League out._ That was going to be a difficult task. They had already been informed, it was only a matter of time before they addressed 'The Gotham Problem'. If that failed, and with his very best effort it would, the next topic of discussion would be 'The Robin Problem.' Switching on the police radio for something to take his mind off the inevitable, he heard the dispatcher talking about the Professor Pyg announcement. Robin's eyes narrowed. _So there's a new one._

"The video is being shot in a dark cellar, no sign of water damage." _Most likely i_ _t's somewhere on Miagani Island. Founder's Island is too far below the water table and there would be some mention of 'Ivy damage' if it were on Bleake._ Only a few weeks ago, Batman had brought down Poison Ivy, more dangerous than ever armed with plants that secreted neurotoxins into the air, and though neither of them had time to identify the plants, they were most likely engineered into existence anyway. "We've managed to isolate the sound of a train in the distance." _Perfect. Trains haven't been running through the city in days, the last one ran through Old Gotham._

Robin switched off the radio as he entered the garage on Founder's Island. The freight elevator inside was large enough, but driving the vehicle onto such an old piece of machinery was an unnecessary risk. Moving the Batmobile as close as possible, he unloaded it quckly and proceeded to park it among Vincent Falcone's personal collection. Amid the strange foreign cars, the ancient but powerful high class rollers, the Batmobile was almost an expected oddity. Vincent's own automobile, an Isotta Fraschini sat in the corner, no scrapes or dings on the body, not a chip in the paint, with the exception of obviously being built in the twenties there was no indication that the vehicle was anything other than brand new.

Grayson tossed a sheet over the Batmobile and took the freight elevator.

The main office was as easy to find as it was to enter. The lock was an old mechanism with a keyhole, and Robin doubted that anyone had ever tried to break in. In taking his possessions from the elevator into the office, he noticed Alfred had packed a drone, among other things. He took in as much as possible of the office while carrying out the task, setting the radio on the cedar desk next to a rotary phone with blood that was only noticeable if the holes were rotated. To the passing observer, the bottles in the liquor cabinet were empty, but Robin was able to detect the smell of chloroform, truth serum, and several poisons. There was a round bed in the adjacent room with satin sheets under which a gash in the cover revealed that the mattress was stuffed with money.

Robin hardly relished the idea of sleeping there, but it would be hours before the night was over.


	2. Final Protocol 2

The radio dispatcher was responding to an officer on the scene.

"Two-Face? You have a visual on-"

"I know he's supposed to be in Arkham, but he's here!" Robin froze as he heard the words. It was impossible that Dent had escaped; he had been suspended above a pit with weights heavier than his own body tied to his hands. This was a 'treatment' in the words of the Arkham staff, of course. It was not the first time Robin wondered how disturbed they started, and how disturbed life in the Asylum made them. _It wouldn't be nearly as much of a problem if they didn't keep getting out._

"Calm down, Officer Dennan- what's the location?"

"Old Gotham- He's taken over the courthouse! That's why-" Robin did not care to hear the explanation, he was already downstairs and out of the garage, going straight down an open sewer to hide his starting point when he arrived. _There's a reason I can't take the Batmobile- people would follow it back to the chop shop. Alone, I can lose pursuers, but in the near future I'm going to have to adjust all cameras pointing at my new home._

Using his hearing to guide him in the general direction, he exited the sewer system about a block down from where he started, leaping onto the side of a passing truck. It was going the right way, but with the traffic he would reach his destination sooner by grappling to the rooftops. As he reached the top of one he froze. _Professor Pyg is still out there- and only I know where he is._

Batman had never told him how he prioritized villains, situations, or people's lives, and for this Robin never blamed him. Even using the most complex, exhaustive system, he would compromise the ideal of fairness by placing some people over others, and this would result in their deaths. The only pattern Grayson had been able to discern was that they generally seemed to go after problems that required the most urgent response. _And all I have to go on now is the choice between a guy with a really fucked up face and mind- and a maniac who fucks up peoples faces and minds._ Leaping off the rooftop and gliding, he headed south east. _Bastard's right under Wayne Tower._ Gritting his teeth, he pressed on. _Who would have even spotted him there, Lucius? He can't be expected to chase our- my villains for me._ The enterprise came to mind, and he remembered that Wayne had specifically stated that if he were to die or disappear, and by that he most likely meant fake his death to get the jump on Eliot, Fox would assume control of the entire company, though he would inherit it. _This will do me exactly no good of course, since I can't resume my actual identity- ever._ As he reached the water's edge in the shadow of Wayne tower, looking for entrances dug into the concrete wall that kept the surface of the island about ten feet above the water, it occurred to him that only his schoolmates at the academy knew him as Dick Grayson, and when he got around to making a new identity, he would have to attend a new academy, or just enroll in public school, the last place anyone would think to look for him. _I'm looking for the wrong thing._

Looking to the tower, he remembered the service tunnels underneath. Taking the elevator down from street level would be what he would do normally, but Pyg would be able to hear it and he had no way of accessing the elevator. _Dammit, what would Batman have me do?_ There was a new building being constructed nearby, not an uncommon occurrence in a city where every structure had been burned down at least once- _but do they have access to the service tunnels?_ Sprinting over to it, he cleared the fence and grappled to the unfinished fourth floor, from which he took the construction elevator down. _Here we are._

Robin stepped out into the brightly lit, rounded corridor. The most recent map available of Gotham's Underground was posted on the opposite wall. The tunnel was clear of pollution and debris- except a broken lock lying on the ground. _Professor Pyg didn't get in here himself. He would have picked it._ As electrical rooms were usually not ventilated, he would have to enter by the only door available. Picking up the broken lock to use as a distraction, he entered slowly to find the room dark and devoid of sound, asleep. _With any luck that fat monster is passed out somewhere._ There were footsteps directly in front of him. Closing the door and leaping forward, he stopped, striking out with a side kick at center mass. He heard a grunt and then a giggle, echoing.

"Bird boy thinks he has the advantage in the dark! How funny!" Robin scowled. The echo threw off his sense of direction. An attack came from behind slowly, trying to sneak up on him, but he ducked low and seized his assailant from underneath, throwing him, great in mass though he was. _I could have sworn-_

"You!" The voice came at him immediately after the grunt of his attacker hitting the floor and he instinctively spun, swinging his fist at face level. He heard a scream and stopped cold.

"HOW MANY ARE-" he cut his own question short. Pyg worked with accomplices, but they weren't this slow.

"Ho ho ho, look at Batman's little legacy go! His master work, ROBIN!" The last word came out as a snarl.

"Pyg! Show yourself!"

"NO! You don't need to see, do you boy? You and your creator are too good for the light- too good to gaze upon my creations- the ones you've only just brutalized!" He heard a mechanical click. "He's molded you, shaped you for the dark- and you don't even know it!"

Robin found Pyg by the light of a single red LED, probably on some sort of electronic device. Pretending to not be aware of it, he started walking in the direction with his eyes closed until he heard the mechanical whirring. _That instrument he was using to carve-_ a slashing motion interrupted his thoughts. Leaping over the improvised weapon, he aimed a fist in front of his enemy's face. _Somehow, he can see- maybe night-vision goggles-_. His hand collided with a device, a video camera. Kicking Pyg in the knee and knocking him out with a blow to the back of the neck, he examined the camera to find it had probably been stolen from Gotham News. With his radio he contacted Gordon as he made his way to the hostages.

"Gordon. I've taken down Pyg." Robin looked through the camera at the 'creations', sickened by what he saw.

"First bit of good news all night. I'll send a car over." Their faces had all been sculpted- they were in pain, indescribable pain.

"The hostages will need medical attention." The man he had hit in the face was still sobbing, his recently mangled visage a bloody mess.

"Figures. I'm starting to see where Deacon Blackfire gets it. Do they have their tongues at least?" Grayson had no wish to check. He doubted he would get his fingers back if he opened their mouths.

"Doubt it. He sent them after me in the dark so that I would confuse them for henchmen." Looking around with the camera, it was clear Pyg had deliberately selected overweight victims.

"And he used that camera from before to watch you do it." Robin froze, whether in response to the commissioner's words or tone he did not know.

"We're in an electrical room off a service tunnel under Wayne tower." He walked out of the room, back into the tunnel. _There's nothing more I can do in here except attract unwanted attention. I have plenty of that already._

"We know. We saw the video. Did you notice the fuse boxes in the back of the room? It looks like someone's made some repairs- or something."

"No, I did not." _I also didn't notice when you said you'd send a car over._ "Thanks. I suppose-" _I'm off my game._ "I need you to ignite the bat signal for something. People can't realize you know, even those who've figured it out."

"I already sent someone to do it. One of the men at the station told me that he's on a mission with the Justice League."

"That was my doing, yes. I heard there was a situation with Two-Face in Old Gotham." Robin said as he surfaced, grappling to the top of Wayne tower. It usually made him feel small, but never nearly so badly as this night, as he stared across the cityscape.

"The situation was resolved."

"He got away."

"There wasn't a lot we could do. He had hostages and he's dangerously insane. Having him make off with some cash and arresting most of his henchmen was the best way it could have gone. There was something unusual, however."

"No speech?"

"Yeah. He didn't come to sermonize, he just wanted the money, and then to be away as soon as possible. There's nothing more we can do tonight."

"Thanks, Gordon." Robin disconnected as he made out a television monitor playing in the distance. A video in night vision played, though he hardly needed to see it to know what it was. He sighed, looking out over the city from the very top of the tower. Thieves on Grand Avenue looked over their shoulders, checking the rooftops and dark alleys. The boy heaved his tired body off the building into a glide. In the corner of his vision, he saw an orphanage where he might have grown up, supported by Wayne Enterprises. The thieves were easy enough to apprehend, there was already a patrol officer there, possibly on his way for Professor Pyg. He caught them almost on autopilot, keeping the boredom out of his expression as he landed at the end of the alley scaring them the other way. It was a technique he had learned on one of his first days of field training. He would touch down dramatically, cutting off any chance of escape as his partner would close in on the miscreants from the other direction. As the officers brought them to the ground and cuffed them, he grappled up to the nearest building before they could say anything. Soon the criminals would be in the back of a patrol car, perhaps one in the trunk, to make room for the fat one. Robin scowled into the sky, its darkness informing him he had but a few hours left before daylight. By then he would have to sleep, and by then any evidence of the heist would be gone.

"Batman would never have let this happen to you."

The days and nights of Gotham were fraught with danger during his time, but things had been worse before his advent. The worst part was the Court of Owls, but they were still around, in one form or another. With Batman gone, only he could even begin to cause problems for them, because only he could do so with impunity. The mayors of Gotham had been in their pockets since they formed, as had every enterprising tycoon with any degree of influence. Only one man of means was outside their grasp, and to the whole world he was a reclusive drunk, and with any luck they would believe him off to sip the wines of the Lapland. Robin sprinted off the roof into a glide. Dark days had returned.

The bank yielded no tangible evidence, but that was to be expected. Two-Face and his men had been at this for years, they knew the only way to escape a bank was in a helicopter, and they knew how to not leave clues. _Banks are almost impossible to enter and exit with a vehicle for a reason._ _The parking lots have only one way onto the street, and a patrol car can park in front of it the second it arrives, usually a few minutes after the silent alarm is pressed. Even if the getaway driver is parked in the street, traffic's generally too slow and they're undertaking a huge risk by sprinting for it. Worse yet, they can only make one trip._ Robin grappled to the roof to talk with the security.

"Where's Batman?" One asked, not surprised by the apparition.

"Elsewhere." Grayson began, not answering the question in any meaningful way."How did Two-Face land a helicopter up here?"

"Decrease power to descend from a hover." _I'm not intimidating him._ Looking around, it was more or less an impossible task. There were multiple guards on the lit roof, and all of them were armed.

"Where were you?"

"We were in the bank, dealing with his men. They showed up in a van, they just didn't intend to leave in it. You'll have to excuse us if no one thought to watch the roof while the vault was being ransacked."

"What happened when he landed?"

"The cops outside radioed us. Two-face killed a hostage."

"You lost your deniability."

"Pretty much. If we shot one of them before they started taking hostages, they would have shot at us instead, but some of us have families."

"You could have stopped the robbery and killed Two-Face, but you let them take hostages to avoid incurring risk. Why did you even take this job."

"We scare off the little shits around your age who show up in masks." The allusion was not lost on Robin, who reminded himself the bank manager probably could not find any better security. Based on the team's actions and how they justified them, they had the same cowardice and defeatism as most people in Gotham. He had long since decided that head examining was better left to the professionals, but figured that the reason people were utterly mystified by Batman's existence was because the concept of heroism escaped them. That was, of course, if they did not believe him to be one of the bad guys.

"Any idea where he went?"

"North. Probably off to Blüdhaven. Oh and what's going on in that video of-"

"I'll be back if I need anything else." Leaping from the roof, he had no intention of going north, what he needed was to check the van before heading in. Finding it still lodged in the side of the building, he scanned the area. The vehicle had been stripped for clues, but some of it was still lying about. There was a body of one of the infiltrators near the back of the van and a few police officers were examining it.

"They killed him as soon as the crew got out of the van." Officer Bullock began. "He's carrying weapons supplied by the Penguin. From the magazine, it seems like he didn't get any rounds off."

"Who killed him- and why did he have his own weapons?" Robin asked.

"Sure as hell wasn't the security. Two-Face's crew put together he's not one of them. Probably saw the same distribution numbers on his gun that we did. Couldn't risk it."

"Does Penguin have assets here?"

"Good idea, but probably not. Most bad guys don't use the banks or e-money at all. As we understand it, the mobs use the banks, but they don't want idiots like Tweedledee and Tweedledum or psychopaths like Landis screwing things up or laundering money."

"It's possible Penguin is protecting the mobs." Robin suggested. _I can't imagine why, but it's more or less our best idea. If Cobblepot planted a man without informing them, it's most likely he was there to sabotage the mission in some way._

"That or he's acting like it. He wants a seat at the table, we know that much."

Robin decided there was not much more to learn. He had an idea of where to look for Penguin, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. He was physically exhausted, and he needed to do a security sweep of the chop shop and its upstairs offices. One of the Falcone heirs was in Gotham, probably Alberto. Grappling onto a passing truck, he decided he would need a better method of travel, and soon.

"Lucius." Robin began on his wrist communicator.

"Robin? I know how things are, but we really can't be talking-"

"I just need one thing."

"Oh, you need something. Here I was thinking you wanted to talk."

"In a few days, it'll be out. Some time before then, I need a method of travel I can carry around."

"A thruster, then, to assist the glide. It won't take long."

"Good. When it's done, leave it somewhere I'll find it. Thanks." As he was reaching the garage, Robin decided he had little time to continue the conversation and simply disconnected. Making sure no one was around, he landed and crawled under the outer door. _It's better to just leave it like this. No one comes in here and this way they won't hear me opening and closing the garage door every time._ Reaching the controls for the freight elevator, he deliberately got it stuck in the basement, where the family used to torture information out of people. _I can grapple up to the office level, but no one else can._ Entering at last the old office of Vincent Falcone, he removed his own utility belt and placed it beside that of Batman. Finding a tub in the adjacent room with the bed, he decided it would be best to reduce his chances of Croc finding him by scent. He bathed in the dark, finding what he needed, left undisturbed by the previous inhabitants, left as though they were soon to return. _I'm going to have to actually buy this shit soon. I need to eat tomorrow._

At last lying awake in bed, the reality of his solitude awoke in his exhausted mind. As he tossed a switchblade out from under a pillow, he managed to at last close his eyes, burying his face into the bed of bloody money, and sleep overtook him.


	3. Final Protocol 3

The sound of the Justice League communicator woke him.

"Damn." He reached over and activated it, heaving himself out of bed and putting on his mask.

"Robin?" _It's Superman again._

"I'm afraid now is a bad time. I'm following a bank robbery by Two-Face and a lead on Penguin. Both have been out of jail a few weeks now."

"Robin, we need to talk with you about Gotham. We have had the greatest respect for the way that Batman did things there, and we left him to it, as requested. With the way things have been described-" _They've been talking with Gordon._ "-to us, however, it has become clear that you need assistance." Superman was being more than reasonable, especially considering any other sidekick his age would be moved to the superhero equivalent of the mail room, Vermont. At the same time, Batman's instructions were clear.

"Batman had faith in me. He specifically instructed me that if he died, I would protect Gotham alone."

"I doubt Batman knew when he would die." He stated simply. _It seems being patient isn't working on me._ "You were his ward, and I expect he fully intended to complete your training. We can provide help in that area as well." Robin's grimace did not make it to his lips.

"Thank you for your consideration, Superman." Robin began respectfully. "There are very likely only a few heroes who can help me with training, and fewer among them who are available. While matters in Gotham have been worse in the past few weeks than they have been in the rest of the year, the city is no stranger to crime waves and I still have things very much in hand." The Kryptonian responded with a look that suggested he had predicted this explanation.

"Very well. You're as occupied as the rest of us, and for now, I'll leave you to it. In the meantime, consider this. Batman may have had specific requests of you regarding his remains, property, and friends, and I understand your obedience in these areas. Would he, however, ask you to grow up the way he wanted- to be the man he wanted? If he did, would you comply?" The question hung in the air for a moment. _To what degree was Bruce trying to raise me? He never asked me to be Robin. To what degree do any parents raise their children into what they want them to be? Is that what he was to me, a parent- or a protector, and I his ward?_

The communicator went dark as Grayson stared into it silently.

He cleaned up, put on his gear, and went out into the dark.

Gliding over the city, he decided the priority would be Penguin. Two-Face was the obvious choice, having actually committed crimes recently, at least those of which he was aware, but he was in Blüdhaven, and it would be better to travel there once Lucius finished with the thruster. There was also something decidedly suspect about Cobblepot's activities, given that it was probably one or more of the mob families pulling the strings.

Robin found the refrigeration company Penguin had owned in the past, but the building was bereft of evidence. He found, however, a piece of paper left on the ground.

"What bird never flies south for the winter?" He read, looking for anything else that might help. Finding nothing, he guessed the southern tip of New Gotham would be a good place to start, given that the implication was that penguins never fly south because they cannot go any farther south. Gliding from the roof, he grappled onto the skid of a passing helicopter. Determining it was going south, he hung on until he was close enough to glide to Burnley, the district farthest in that direction. Catching sight of an armored van while gliding, he honed in on it. _My luck's beginning to turn-_ landing atop the back of the vehicle, the driver swerved hard, braking to keep from colliding with oncoming traffic. The contents of the back area surged to the door as the vehicle came to a screeching halt, and an arm stuck out the barred window.

"What the hell is going on here-" The man inside began as Robin jumped down to the back of the van. All at once, fear came over him, and he planted his feet to keep himself from shaking. _I fucked up._

"Well, well- back for revenge against the World's Deadliest Assassin?" It was Deadshot. The police were using an unmarked vehicle to take him to Blackgate.

"Stay put." Robin walked around to the driver's side, quickly apologizing for startling the police inside.

"What if I don't want to? I'm going to look forward to killing you like I killed your partner." Robin forced himself not to look around, remembering that Deadshot most likely suspected Batman's death was all over the news, and he had been awarded credit for it.

"Batman survived the bullet. We were carrying an antidote for it at the time."

"You can't fool me, boy. There have been two freakouts in this city in the last twelve hours and I haven't seen the damn signal once."

"I don't have time to explain things to you. But before you go bragging to the other inmates, Batman is going to Blackgate to question the Penguin." It had occurred to Robin that the prison was still technically within the city limits. _Penguin doesn't fly south because he can't move._ The vehicle was moving again before the assassin had a chance to respond.

Cursing his luck and most likely nervous jumpiness, he saw Gordon driving behind in an unmarked car. The girl was with him.

"Had something to say to Deadshot?"

"Something like that. He said- I haven't seen the Bat signal at any point tonight."

"Well, we've all been busy. Have you met Barbara? She's a long time admirer of you and Batman." She simply glared at her father in response.

"That makes one I suppose. Apparently she talked to him once." The glaring turned to Robin. _Oh. I wasn't supposed to say that._ Gordon adopted a downcast look.

"Oh. I would- have liked to talk to him about that." It occurred to Robin that the commissioner probably did not want his daughter hanging around Batman often, or at all, if possible. _It's a good way of drawing the wrong kind of attention. Wait 'till he finds out she wanted to train under him._

"Is the Penguin still in Blackgate?"

"Yes. If you're following a lead after the robbery, I'm going there myself. Hop in the back and we can get past the gates." Robin entered the car, Barbara still glowering at him. He suspected that in addition to giving her a lecture from her father, he had also ruined the game of hide-and-go-seek.

"Is it take your daughter to work day?" Robin asked her quietly, trying to lighten things and figure out what she was doing there.

"I insisted on coming along. I can train myself in other ways while humoring your transparent effort to get rid of me."

"Good." He saw no reason to tell her it was a genuine challenge, and he would have at least kept an eye out for her. They went through the security gate as planned, though the officer had taken the opportunity to make a joke.

"Carpooling the kids. Saving the planet, Jim. Good on you."

"I hear you guys conserve bullets when the mob breaks some psychopath out of prison." The commissioner responded. As he opened the gate and waved up to a guard tower, he turned back, eyeing Barbara with intention. Perhaps out of politeness, he did not verbally ask Gordon what his daughter would do if he died.

They entered without further hindrance.

As they passed through the cell blocks, Robin caught sight of a few faces he recognized. Doctor Crane, separated from his drugs and equipment, was an utterly normal man, at least outwardly. He paced back and forth, ever unevenly with arms raised as though being manipulated by a puppeteer.

"What's wrong with him?" He asked Barbara quietly, testing her.

"He's insane. He should never have been put in charge of patients at Arkham Asylum or students at Gotham University."

"Incorrect. Scarecrow is obsessed with phobias and lives in a constant state of paranoia, disgust, and paralyzing fear. His specialized gas was originally developed by Hugo Strange. He's at the Asylum because the city thinks he's curable for some reason."

"That's almost the same thing."

"The difference can kill you." Robin stated simply. He had no need to prove it. _At this point, I'll be fine with scaring her away from fieldwork._

"Here you are." Gordon said, leaving Robin in the interrogation room alone. He took his daughter behind the one-way glass, probably to point out what Robin was doing, or trying to do.

"Oy. Bird boy. Mind tellin' me what we're on about?" _You've ended a sentence with not one, but two prepositions._

"You know why you're here." Robin simply stared at him silently. Penguin would not intimidate easily, but from experience he was more likely to lie than simply stare back.

"Look, if you're here about North Refrigeration, I still own the place, just doubt it's worth your ticks to follow up on a little weapons smuggling." Robin simply glared, not fooled by the misdirection. Cobblepot began again. "Bit of the equipment got out, didn't it?" Still silent, he walked up to the table, putting his hands on it and leaning forward. "You're a patient little bugger aren't you, birdo." _You're not. You're up to something and you don't have a moment to lose._ He considered repeating himself, but decided against it. He doubted Batman had ever done so. "Keeping up with the business while the boss is out, eh? Fine. We've both better things to do than stare at each other. I used a contact to watch the boys whilst I waste away in here." _You're lying, but it doesn't matter. I don't care how you do it._ "So then I receive word from a Falcone that the price of gold is on the rise, and Gotham investors have started buying it anywhere they can find it. Trading gold, bartering goods and services- not good for the banks. They told me the Two-Face wanker has been stoking the paranoia, buying up old silver coins with money he stole from them years ago. He's been planting them under the teeth of corpses to make it look like a perfectly normal Saturday evening activity, of course, but Sofia isn't rustled. I think it's her, anyway. There was no name, but she's one of the only ones not dead or out of the country." _He's telling the truth- why?_ "Old bird's asking me to follow them, find out where they're going. Says it'll be worth my while." Robin raised an eyebrow. "Yes, yes, I know, trusting a woman not to change her mind when the wind blows the other way- but mob families tend to keep their word. It's a professional thing, they need trust between them." _Not you. You want something._ "Anyway." He paused.

"What." Cobblepot had earned a response of some manner.

"I'll wager you already know what I want to know." _He knows there's some reason Batman is not around. I don't usually interrogate suspects. Given that, he's trying to buy in. The first one's free, of course._

"We burned the body." Robin rose, placing great yet invisible intent into his tone and movement. "They say a man can't rest until he's had his last rites." He turned toward the door. "You're not superstitious about that kind of thing, are you?" He left without another word, finding Gordon outside. "I need the warden." The commissioner showed him to a desk, where he was put on a direct line.

"What so you want?"

"Put the Penguin in solitary confinement."

"He already is in such- I suggest you-"

"He's using the guards to communicate with the outside. You need a deep storage unit with A/V monitoring but no contact with the officers."

"We have no such-"

"Dig a hole and throw a camera in it. You don't need another breakout on your hands." Robin hung up. Knowing Cobblepot had dual citizenship, he supposed it would be possible to simply revoke it, but doing so would only make him England's problem. He confessed he was occasionally annoyed at his and Batman's approach to crime in light of frequent breakouts as well as the mob families not going to jail at all, but Bruce had been entirely unambiguous on multiple occasions that a man has the right to a fair trial, enumerated by the Constitution. He respectfully criticized the idea of a permanent solution to crime, given his view that lawbreaking, an activity in which he and Robin frequently engaged, was not inherently wrong, would always take place given the general nature of human beings, and the elimination of it would require the elimination of privacy entirely. As a result, it became clear to Robin after the first few months of working under Batman that he really had no intention of imprisoning every last member of the mobs, since keeping them there required the participation of the prison guards and the court system, and most of the time it was legitimately difficult to catch any one of them in illegal activity.

"Gotham deserves many of its problems, Robin." He remembered Batman saying one night after they saved a child from kidnappers, only to find the parents angry at them for doing so. "The dealers are here because people buy drugs. The mob controls people because they cave to threats. Corrupt politicians are in power because people vote for them. People die in the streets because the witnesses are afraid to report it."

"Why?" He had asked simply.

"I don't know. There are exceptions, like my friend, James Gordon." Years after that Robin would conclude that he had theories, but he was young enough at the time that he would have believed anything Batman told him, which not only might have been wrong, but would have impeded his own ability to think for himself. He knew that despite Bruce's view that many of Gotham's problems were self-inflicted, the two of them worked tirelessly to prevent them, and hardly reserved culpability for the people of Gotham exclusively.

As the three of them left the prison, the commissioner's business having been concluded, Robin whispered again to Barbara that if she wanted to know what they had compiled about Gotham's more notorious criminals, he could send her the information electronically, remembering the laptop he had in the office.

"That would be well appreciated. In the meantime, I actually have a rather good hiding place, and I would be disappointed if you didn't come find me." Robin shot a look toward her father, who was entering the car ahead of them.

"He isn't okay with this." As she got into the car on the other side, her face was downcast.

"I do not think he really should be." Barbara began at a whisper. "My dad's doing his job as a father. I cannot tell him I am old enough to make my decisions; he has no reason to believe it. To be honest, what I did out there in my costume that I spent days making, with the Batarangs I had to sneak into a metal shop to cut into shape- it felt right. People like my dad face an entire city of injustice because no one does anything about it. When I was little I used to watch him come home every day drenched in sweat, sometimes bleeding- mom was his only ally for years- he would be too tired to light a cigar and she would do it for him. Things... got harder when we lost her. Every day he looked a year older. He told me about this masked man named Batman- probably an instrument for the mob, a super soldier experiment- totally invisible in the dark, controls bats that fly silently and cut people apart with their razor wings. He put the psychos away, but only because they caused trouble for the families- they need some basic sense of law and order to operate- and he always left them alive in case he needed them again. I hated him. With every fiber of my being, I knew he was everything that was wrong with Gotham. Like Atlas, my father held up the sky alone." Gordon came to a stop. "The world changed when he started to believe in Batman."

"Here you are, Robin."

"Thank you, Commissioner." As he got out of the car he decided it had been a long time, longer than he would have expected. He looked up to find that Gordon had taken him to Wayne Tower. _How long has he known?_ Robin wondered. He knew the man to be a good detective, working closely with Batman for years. Lucius was trying to contact him through radio. He looked around as he raised his wrist to his mouth.

"Are you near Wayne Tower?"

"Yes, why?"

"I need you to get to the top, now. I thought he was real at first, but he's off on a few things. I asked him where he's been the last few days and he told me he was on a League mission."

"Are you telling me that Bat-"

"Robin- it's Bruce Wayne- and he's keyed into the security system."


	4. Final Protocol 4

_Clayface is in prison- it has to be Hush._

Robin grappled up a few stories at a time. The cable was not long enough to reach the top from ground level.

 _Elliot has disguised himself as Bruce before; they were friends as boys._

He reached the balcony at the top and hung over its ledge, staring into Lucius's office.

 _I'm betting he thinks Batman is on a League mission- and he knows Batman and Bruce Wayne are the same person._

Lucius was alone in there, tapping at his desk uncertainly.

 _We've kept him quiet in the past with his own secrets._

Robin crept silently into the room, walking up behind Lucius once he saw that the cameras were off from the monitor on the desk.

 _If Elliot goes to jail as Bruce Wayne- could we keep it that way?_

"Lucius." He nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Thank God you're here." He said as soon as he turned around. "Bruce Wayne has locked himself in the panic room, declaring a state of emergency. The drones are out in full force." Robin stared at the monitor silently. The panic room was where the public believed Bruce Wayne went in the case of an attack on Wayne Tower. In reality, it only contained a spare Batsuit and a hidden way out, dropping into the boiler room through what looked like a normal pipe. _Hush probably knows that Bruce never occupied the panic room for any length of time, because Batman was always seen directly after he went in. He knows there's nothing of value in there._ Robin's eyes narrowed.

"Take me there."

"Of course." _It was the answer you were expecting, after all._ The two of them boarded the elevator.

"I don't want him to know I'm here. Hush is a dangerous man. I need to take him by surprise."

"There is only one entrance."

"Can I get in the concealed exit?"

"No. He had it closed from the boiler room when he first got here. I saw it on the cameras, when I initially tried to contact you. Since he's been in there, he's almost certainly closed it from the inside as well. He doesn't want to be taken by surprise." They reached the door and Lucius scanned his hand on the interface, opening it with a metallic click.

"Thanks." Robin said simply. He removed a Birdarang from his belt, taking a step back as he opened the door. Blackness stared back.

"See him in there?"

"Not yet." Robin jammed the blade into Lucius's aorta, taking him off guard before he could draw a gun out of his coat. Breaking his knee with a kick, he dragged the man in front of him and heaved him into the dark room. "Oh, wait. There he is." Robin slammed the door, kicking the scanner to seal it.

"Robin- what are"

"You can cut the act, Hush. You need to keep pressure on your wound." He began as he cleaned his tool before putting it back in his belt. "Deactivating the cameras was normal enough. Maybe you wanted to limit Wayne's information. Sealing the exit was suspicious, but the only reason Hush would go into the panic room was if he wanted to trap me in there or shoot me- makes sense, the walls are soundproof. You thought I was onto you after I radioed you asking for help- I wasn't. That might have been the real Lucius for all I know. You've gotten smarter about your game- continually switching places with him rather than tying him up somewhere would be good, mostly because it's unexpected."

"Fine, Robin." Hush admitted in his normal voice. "What gave me away?"

"The plan was good, but it had weaknesses. You didn't tell me why you deactivated the cameras. I could see the gun in your jacket. I've been trained for that. You said 'Bruce Wayne' had the drones out, and you probably weren't lying, but it wasn't something you would do. You tend to draw as little attention to yourself as possible." _Also, Bruce Wayne is dead. At first I thought Lucius knew, but Elliot was in the dark. If you had known, you could have used that. I would be dead- or worse._

"I'll be out of here, Grayson- soon. The next form I take will be the death of you."

"I don't know how you expect to get out. The purpose of a panic room is so that you can't get in from the outside, so the door seals when you break the access panel." _Tell me who will break you out. Tell me why you've been Lucius this whole time._

"Any door can be opened with enough force. I expect at least one of Black Mask's associates will have no trouble with it."

"Never saw you as a flunky-" _This'll tell me if he's lying._

"I'm not. Sionis considers me his associate. After I finished with my responsibilities here-"

"You'd go back for your next little errand? Did he even need to send someone disguised as Lucius to shoot me, or was he worried about wasting talent?"

"Make your jokes while you can, Dick. Bit by bit I've been sending Wayne tech to Black Mask- he's been repurposing it- using it against you- and I cancelled your stupid jetpack thing, just to slow you down." _That must have been before you got the order to kill me- or decided to do it yourself._ Robin walked away, finding a balcony and gliding from it. Elliot would figure out he had left sooner or later. _I highly doubt Sionis would care if Hush managed to kill me. He probably planned to trap me and shoot the scanner just in case Dick Grayson had hand print access. Then, they send an interrogator._

Robin lacked the necessary respect for Hush to actually hate him. He had been Bruce's childhood friend, and killed his own parents. He was genuinely insane, but did not fall into the category of 'dangerous, unstable psychopath' because for all the damage he could cause, he mostly fixated on petty revenge against imaginary offences of Bruce Wayne, making him easy enough to spot unless Batman was distracted. _Elliot is a coward and an opportunist. Had I told him his mortal enemy died, he might have taken the gun and shot himself. I wouldn't have attempted to stop him if I could._

"Sionis..." Robin whispered to himself in a glide. _The old steel mill is evacuated- he has to be somewhere in Gotham, but where?_ Robin considered that he might have taken up office in the city, as he did before becoming known as a crime lord, but that would require him to assume a false identity, which defeated the point of the mask routine. _Of course, it also might not really be Sionis giving orders- but that's been done before. His men have to have some way of recognizing that it's actually Sionis underneath the mask._ Robin doubted they really cared who gave them orders, some of them were Joker's men before that, but it was unlikely to work out well for them if they were being deceived about something important. _Maybe the police know something._

As he glided north to Bleake Island, he contacted Lucius with his wrist communicator, informing him of recent events. Landing on the roof of the GCPD, he spotted Aaron Cash.

"Robin. Where's Batman?"

"Not available. Have you been trying to contact him?"

"Yeah. I came up here to turn the signal on, but nothing happened. Don't think-"

"I'm sorry, Cash. I can't explain why that is. Do you know anything about Sionis? Recent activities- partners- anything like that? He's involved in the recent escalations."

"We know he's working with Killer Croc."

"This is good. What's he doing?" _He's worked for Black Mask in the past, mostly causing huge distractions- usually not hard to find._

"Sionis has him on defense. We found this woman, scavenger probably, really busted up. Says he told her she came to the wrong end of the sewer system. My guess is Black Mask doesn't want you or Batman sneaking up on him through the service tunnels. Too complex of an order for Croc, so he tells him to keep everyone out of the sewers under his territory. Good idea, really, using Croc's superior senses to sniff out intruders."

"Any idea where he's guarding?"

"We haven't had enough attacks to determine a radius. Most people stay out of the sewer for good reason. There are around ten manhole covers in convenient locations- but searching them all would be dangerous and time consuming, especially without his go-ahead."

"I figured. Got any ammonia downstairs?" Cash nodded.

Within twenty minutes, Robin was in the sewers, covered in ammonia. Having informed Lucius of Hush's presence, he knew Elliot was likely already on his way to prison. Leaving him trapped in the panic room was sentencing him to eventual starvation, which was unnecessary and an abridge to his rights. Of course, were he permanently prevented from committing crimes, he would probably starve considering no one would hire him, but that was his own business.

Robin had tossed around the idea of using the ammonia to mask his approach, but one way or another, Croc would smell him, hear him, or maybe already know of his presence, having been radioed by Hush. It was something he simply had not considered. The actual purpose of the ammonia was to make his fight an incredibly distracting and unpleasant experience for Croc and his hyper-sensitive nose.

He made his way through the sewers at a crouch, keeping most of the colors of his costume invisible. He considered changing it, given he no longer had Batman, but the outside of his cape was black, making it difficult enough to see him while crouching. The yellow of the inside of the cape was decidedly alien in the sewers, though, a mixture of brown and grey. The walls were stone, probably put together in the thirties originally. The ladders that led up to the street access covers were rusted, some of them lying on the floor of the cavern, making Robin wonder how anyone got any work done in the sewers. Seeing a door to an electrical room hanging open, he doubted any work did get done. As he made his way through the murky service tunnel it occurred to him not for the first time that this was the perfect environment for Killer Croc.

As expected, Robin found the beast by listening out for him. He could move quietly enough, but Robin had long since trained his hearing to where it was all but impossible to sneak up on him while he was focusing.

"RRRoobin-!" Croc shouted as he burst out of the water behind him, not expecting an explosive charge in the face. He recoiled, but was visibly unharmed. "Yooooouu don't pull your punches, boooy. I like it." He took an electroshock device out of his belt and Robin's eyes widened instinctively. "SSSssurprrrised?" He clicked it, sending a high voltage through it. _That could kill me in a single blow._ "I know I don't usssualy usse toolss on you- I like to get closse and perssssonal." _I have to get up- I have to-_ "But I hearrd it was you- Black Masssk sssays you need to die." Robin leaped for the wall as Croc planted the device in the water, electrifying it. Firing his grapnel past him as a distraction, he bounced off the wall onto the opposite, grabbing a rusted handle as a claw seized his grapnel cable. Letting go of it, he forced himself onto Croc, leading with his boot to take the brunt of an electric shock. As the rubber sole of his boot made contact with the weapon and a free hand was coming up from the other side, Robin planted a Birdarang in his enemy's right ear hole for support and struck him with an open palm in the other, sending a deafening clap into his sensitive hearing. Dropping the weapon, Croc seized him with both hands and threw him off, howling in pain. He landed in the sewage and dodged his own Birdarang while reaching back for one of his freeze explosives Batman had made using tech from Victor Fries. Robin noticed he was bleeding and his spine had been damaged. _I have to end this now._ Dodging four successive swipes from Croc, he waited for the beast to attempt to come down on him from above.

"You can't hit me- you're off balance!" Robin taunted as he leaped backward and out of the way.

"Yooour blooood has a different sssscent, boooy!" He doubted Croc had ever smelled Wayne blood. _Batman was faster, stronger, and smarter than I am- he would have found this monster instead of being found._ Killer Croc put his hands together and came down on him as Robin leaped to the wall, leaving the freeze charge in the sewage, where it went off, binding the beast's hands for a moment. Throwing himself off the wall, he landed squarely on Croc's bent back, throwing an arm around his neck for support. He clapped against the ear hole again, causing his enemy to recoil in pain. Before the claws could seize him again, he twisted around and kicked Croc in the ribs, careening him into the wall. The monster grabbed the arm around his neck, but Robin already had his head up against the wall, where he punched it as hard as he could. "Sssstooo-" Robin punched him several more times, likely darkening his vision with brain damage.

"Where's Black Mask?" Robin shouted as he continued dealing blows to the head. Croc pushed himself off the wall, trying to land on his back with his foe underneath, but Robin forced himself over his head as he went down. Landing on the beast's chest, it was clear they were both losing energy rapidly.

"I'm not-" He was interrupted by fingers going into his eye.

"Try again."

"Norrrth Refrrrrigeration!" Croc shouted. "Penguin moved out, he moved in!"

"Nice try. I didn't see him there." Robin clapped his ear again. _I can't keep this up._

"Chinatown!" _That's appropriate. We're under Chinatown right now._

"Good Lizard! What building?"

"Can't read- moon letterrrssss-" _Fuck. Figures._

"Were there Chinese there?"

"Yeah, lotss of 'em. Going in and out all the time." _Sionis is getting better, limiting the information his minions have. It's probably part of why Hush was willing to tell me things._ "Restaurant'sss a front. They keep the bodiesssss in the meat lockerrrr." Robin decided Croc had been relatively cooperative.

"You're going to animal control." Robin stated simply, knocking the beast out swiftly and unexpectedly. Gotham had a new system for detaining animal hybrids. Man-Bat, Killer Moth, Orca, Mr. Toad, Great White Shark, and more or less anyone else claiming to be an animal.

Robin knew he had to return soon. Night was almost over, and he had school in the morning. He had more money than he needed, more money than he wanted. _But would Batman want me splitting time between the city and school? It's the only excuse the Justice League will need._

Grayson decided he would have to scan the bat symbol for anything relevant. Having called 'animal control' and having found a way out of the service tunnel, he concluded he had neither the energy nor the time to go after Black Mask as he picked up his gear. He hoped his spine would heal completely by the following morning, he hardly wanted to miss anything on his first day at Gotham Heights, unless he had a specific order that he needed to put his education aside. He had skipped a day here and there to do work with Batman, but he was staring at several weeks of uninterrupted crime fighting. There was a new war in Gotham, and he would have to fight it alone. Surfacing from the service tunnel, he saw at least three men in Black Masks, maybe more in the area.

"There's the- bird boy!" One of them shouted clumsily. Robin's eyes narrowed. Sionis goons were usually good enough fighters, and he was actually impressed by the degree of focus they displayed even when being put through severe pain. _I can't take on this many at once in my current condition. Worse yet, some might be armed._

"Fuck off. No one cares about Sionis." He said simply. _If that won't get them to chase me, nothing else will. I need them as far away from Croc as possible. If they get to him before animal control, that puts them in danger and almost certainly they get him out._

"Kill him." The command was simple and without particular emphasis. _He knows I'm gaming him._ Robin grappled to the nearest ledge as a few bullets flew past him. It was easy enough to put distance between himself and a gathering of thugs, and it was also not impossible to get them to shoot at him, but pulling off both at once required a greater deal of effort. The men were almost certainly under specific orders not to leave their posts and it was possible they had been trained to recognize an effort at goading them into doing just that. _They'll only pursue me if I'm so close I can't get away- or if they don't have a choice._ Robin resurfaced from the ledge on top of which he had taken cover, appearing to talk into his wrist communicator. Catching the eye of one of the goons in the street and then ducking behind cover again, before they could react, he was greeted at last by a welcome hail of gunfire. Sprinting across the rooftop and gliding to the next, his racing mind turned over several ideas on how to finally lose them. _Eh, probably round a few corners in Drescher. Can't be much further after that._

Robin plunged in the air, passing under a shadow in the sky.


	5. Final Protocol 5

Robin was having a difficult time staying awake in class.

Bruce had encouraged him to study a variety of subjects almost every time he had the chance. Having used each of his degrees on a regular basis, he was acutely aware of the value of education, which was why he insisted Dick attend the academy. They had the resources, they had the knowledge; a diligent boy would come out many times more knowledgeable than he had come in. This, however, was no longer an option. He would be putting a dent in his finite amount of money, and since he was certain some of his enemies already knew or at least suspected that Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person, he would have to adopt a third identity and attend school that way. In order to infiltrate the mobs at one point, he remembered Batman had simply made a distinct yet unassuming costume for himself, going by Matches Malone, after a deceased criminal. As a result, he borrowed the name Lonnie Machin, the true name of Anarky, who had been sent to Arkham Asylum as Anarky without being unmasked by the state due to his status as a minor. Batman was less concerned.

Being Lonnie Machin would afford him an oddly familiar name, as if he had always been there. It would also alert him in the event that Anarky ever left juvenile detention. _Given the postal system in Gotham, I wouldn't be surprised if his mail started turning up at the office._

"Machin." Having forced himself to familiarize with the name, responding to it naturally was not an issue.

"Yes?"

"Why did Rome fall?"

"How much time do you have?" Robin mentally kicked himself. He had forgotten to dumb his responses down to the expected degree of education he had and the actual degree of education that his instructors had. _But if I do that, I won't get anywhere and my education will have been a huge waste of time._ "Rome essentially was suffering for many years as a result of extending its territory into places like Germania, where the people were harder to subdue and conditions were difficult for Roman soldiers. Where previously the small farmer had been the backbone of the military, the empire was relying progressively more on professional soldiers, who had an incrementally smaller tie to the land and its people. Scholars mistake the existence of an emperor for the failure of the state because of the last twenty being especially poor leaders, but fail to remember Rome was a highly aristocratic society with an entire ruling class of senators, who in many cases were equally worthy of deposition, but went unnoticed as individuals likely due to the Congressman paradox. Even with the myriad other problems in Rome, like the lead poisoning in the water, the collapsing reward system for proficient soldiers, communication delays, all of it was no worse than they had before, and they would have been able to respond to these problems had it not been for the consistent underlying degradation of society and the upper class as mentioned." Machin received blank stares from some students, looks of mild annoyance from others. From the instructor he received another question.

"When did Rome fall?"

"Rome was not built in a day, the civilization and its satellites in the west did not fall in a day. Being the greatest civilization in the history of the western world, Rome, in essence, had a great distance to fall before hitting the ground, which can be said to be 476 AD, when Odacer formally deposed Romulus Augustulus, the last emperor, though there are several other significant milestones in what is the long period before the collapse." A nearby student let out a long whistle.

"Thank you, Machin, way more than anyone needed to know." _Why do you even teach this class?_ He took a brief glance around the room to see if anything had changed in his surroundings. Doing so quickly, accurately, and unnoticed was one of the first lessons Batman had taught him. The students were a believable blend of youths from the area, wearing largely disinterested expressions. _Makes sense. When the idea is 'get into college, start your education there', what else would you expect?_ Class ended a few moments later. Machin stood and left without speaking to anyone. He had no intention of coming off as the 'dark loner', or coming off as anything at all. From his experience at the academy, the kids who ignored everyone else were ignored in turn. He imagined the rest of the students would simply stop talking about him if they were talking about him at all.

He had another class to go before the end of the day, so as long as he stayed awake through art, he could sleep a few hours before his work began at dusk. _Better yet, if I complete whatever I'm doing before class is over, I can leave early._

In art class, which was what he decided to call it instead of its actual, incredibly long name, the general idea was to make a sculpture from clay, some shape that was significant to each of them. Concluding that anarchy meant a lot to Lonnie Machin, Robin began to shape the clay into an A, with a concentric circle. Noticing a boy making a pot leaf and a girl making a dick, he wondered whether or not Barbara was enrolled at Gotham Heights, and if so, why. As he worked on the sculpture, he decided that he would see her or he would not, there was no point in making any special effort to find out. _At least she knows Gotham. Most of the students at the academy only know how bad it is, which seems to correlate with how quickly they're leaving._

As he left the clay in an oven of some sort and left the building, it occurred to him that Gordon's daughter would be far from the worst choice as a trainee. She knew the law, seemed to have a stout heart for the job, and apparently a little relevant training and experience in the field. Checking into the library and falling asleep on his work, he set an alarm on his watch.

After he removed his jacket, boots, and the baggy pants he wore to hide his costume and look the part, leaving them in his bag in a locker in the gym, he left the locker room though the alley exit. Having completed most of his work between classes and at lunch, Robin elected to follow up on the information about Sionis in Chinatown. Gliding from the roof, the bat symbol crossed his mind again. On its reverse, there was no instruction to continue his education, merely a reminder that he owes the city nothing. He had never thought about it that way, but the statement was essentially correct. What he and Batman did, they did out of a sense of justice, if a self-righteous one and it was something that more people were capable of doing. Counting only the expenses of fighting crime in Gotham City, a high tech suit, transportation, gadgetry, being a vigilante was possible on a middle class income. The main advantage Bruce Wayne had is that his income came not from what he did, but what belonged to him. Robin remembered how he had explained it long ago.

"I own Wayne Enterprises, Dick. Other people own their labor and its fruits. If you, the state, or anyone else were to take something someone had built, that would be taking the time and effort that they put into it. Seizing people's labor and using it for your own purposes is slavery."

Sionis goons came into view as the last word rang through his mind. As he understood it, Black Mask used drugs to keep them in line. They were paid a flat wage, no matter their accomplishments, and their main incentive was fear. By combining a liquid solution distilled from Hugo Strange's fear gas with cocaine, he had gotten them addicted to what was, in essence, fear. As a result, they were almost impossible to break or intimidate, they enjoyed it. To make matters worse, their brains built up a tolerance to fear, sending them off in search of progressively greater danger and torment in order to obtain the same level of satisfaction they had when they were first introduced to the drug, which just so happened to be when they were staring at Black Mask. As a result, they were eventually totally immune to new fear responses, making Strange and Scarecrow significantly less threatening to Sionis, and the image of him in their minds would always scare them more than anything else ever could, making them impossible to threaten or interrogate except by putting them through incredible pain.

They gave a cursory look around before entering a building with Mandarin characters going down a long sign. _I should really learn it sooner or later._ Taking a look at the building, he could tell it was well guarded. The men were staying away from the windows, but by moving around at different angles he could see them. On the roof he spotted two bored looking goons trying to look like they weren't guarding anything. Neither were wearing masks. _If there's one thing that's good about their addiction, it's that they get bored easily. They seek thrills, so perhaps without noticing, they do a poor job of guarding._ Robin landed on a nearby rooftop. _I can't distract them, and even if I could get past them, I would still need a way out. I have to take them both out at once._ Once both of them were looking in the same direction, he glided from the roof and grabbed hold of theirs, concealing himself on the ledge.

"You hear something?" _Another downside- as soon as they see or hear anything, they jump on it._

 _"_ I think so. Stay a few feet behind me." _Damn._ Robin moved, checking the windows beneath him. Both had guards. _Damn._ Taking out his grapnel, he threw himself up over the ledge and fired between the legs of the guards. One of them shouted and leveled a weapon, but as Robin rolled behind them, the cable snapped back, knocking them off their feet before they could react. Stomping on the abdomen of the first to keep him from making a sound, he dodged a blind swing from the second, grabbing him by the throat. The first raised his gun again, but Robin extended his staff into the man's face while manually subduing the other, keeping blood from going to his brain. In minutes both were silenced. _That went well._ Batman had trained him for a long time about taking down armed men, and if one thing was certain, there was no easy or safe way of doing it. Every time he did it, there were things to improve, things he needed to change or he could die.

Without bothering to check the door to see if anyone came in response to the noise, Robin heaved himself into the ventilation output. _I didn't have an escape route from where I was. I couldn't adapt well enough to what they were doing._ He had already decided it was inevitable that someone would come up to the roof and check it out, after having given the men a chance to come down and explain it themselves. _It's not a matter of 'if', but 'when'. Now I need to get to Sionis first._ Crawling silently through the ventilation, he could hear a meeting taking place. As he got into position, it was clear enough to him someone was speaking Mandarin.

"Your men will get what I promised them, you have my word. See, my word has value- like magic. I tell the coach of the Yankees that the Red Socks are going to win the world series, they win the world series. I tell Rupert Thorne he's going to die if he crosses me again, and he crosses me one last time. I tell you that if you cooperate, you will be richly rewarded- you will be." The explanation seemed to satisfy Black Mask's conversation partners, but the translators were virtually whispering, making it impossible for Robin to tell what the Chinese were saying.

"I have a great amount of respect for the way you keep people in line. The rules are left ambiguous- and people freak out. They have an idea, but only you can be certain whether or not they broke the law, because you wrote it. It's up to your interpretation. At some point, they're more worried about what _could be interpreted_ as criminal activity. No privacy either, of course."

Robin waited in the shaft until the meeting was over, though Sionis was interrupted by his men several times. At the very end, he told one of them he would have a smoke in the upper washroom in a few minutes. The other mob had already left. _Now's my chance._ Making his way up the shaft, he found a turn he had passed earlier. Finding the correct room was easy enough and sure enough, Black Mask was in there, turned away from the opening. _I don't have much time- I need to act._ Pushing out the cover and dropping to the ground before it did, Robin had his target in a sleeper hold as the crash rang out. A knife went into his thigh, but there was nothing he could do about that except keep himself from screaming as Black Mask finally passed out. Heaving the man onto his back, he was certain help was on its way- but not for him.

In moments Robin crashed out the window, unable to fire his grapnel gun with an unconscious passenger. He pushed off the sign as he went town, dislodging it and sending him into the side of another building, from which he pushed off, landing with a roll. _Why aren't they shooting at me? Oh, because I have their leader._

"Very impressive, Robin!" A man's voice shouted from in front of the hideout. He looked up to see the real Sionis, sans mask. "If only you were as good at choosing targets as you are at getting them down three stories." He was holding something. _That antenna- it's a detonator- this man has a bomb on him._ "The radius is about ten feet. If you or anyone else attempts to leave it, you die." Robin whipped his head around, seeing several people within the circle, probably more within the nonlethal range.

"What exactly do you want?" Robin asked, transparently stalling as he removed the body double's jacket. His wound was bleeding profusely and he used it as an excuse to bind his leg with the jacket.

"Where is Batman?" _He knows Batman would never send me to do this alone. Or would he?_ The bomb was complex, it would probably take several minutes to disarm.

"He's on a mission with the Justice League." Several wires stuck out, but each of them was too obvious; he highly doubted some of them were even connected to anything.

"Bullshit. There's some reason you can't just hold down the fort until he gets back." He cut off the slack in the jacket with a Birdarang as he scanned the wires.

"This is holding down the fort. People pointing guns at me, getting nearly blown up along with hostages- all normal Monday night stuff." The body double Sionis had chosen as a sacrifice would be giddy with glee. _He has a ticking time bomb, but there's just the right amount of uncertainty. Too bad he's missing out._

"Cute. The only thing keeping you and those hostages alive right now is that you may have useful information." Robin knealt, pretending his thigh was acting up. _Damn, don't know what I'd do without this injury._

"We have all night, Sionis. Are you worried that Batman is somewhere in Gotham right now, at work to undermine your operation?" He had an idea of what he wanted from his new business partners, but he could only guess at the larger purpose. _He mentioned Ivy during the conference, but only in passing. She has to be involved._ Looking up he noticed Black Mask did not have his thumb on the button. _Good. It's not a dead man's switch._

"You're trying my patience. You don't want me to know where Batman is- and it's either because he's somewhere I don't want him or because he's not going to be back." He was looking for the wireless adapter; the timer still had several minutes on it.

"Oh, he's here alright- you don't think I took out Hush and Killer Croc myself, do you?" _Good. Keep underestimating me._ Finding the cord connecting to the antenna, he remembered he had several guns trained on him for good measure. Groaning as he dropped to his hands and knees, Robin cut the cord while slashing an artery, knowing he could not lose any more of his own blood.

"Not in that condition, no. You look like you're about to die." He handed the detonator to a mook and walked over himself, cocking a pistol. "He won't try anything with people around." For the first time in his career he allowed himself to look scared, and the people in the blast radius picked up on it. As soon as Sionis was in it, Robin shouted.

"Get out of range! They won't kill him!" They looked to Black Mask.

"Go on, go on. I don't care. I have questions for this little shit and then I'm going to shoot him. It's really as simple as that." Both Robin and Sionis knew that all of them could easily overwhelm one man with a gun, but they fled before facing the risk of being shot by his henchmen.

The night stood at an uneasy, silent stillness as Black Mask and his approaching goons leveled their weapons at the crouched Grayson. _There's nothing I can do to distract him, not even for a moment._

"I'm going to ask you one last time, Robin-" He removed his own mask as he took out his grapnel gun with his left hand.

" _You don't know who I am."_ He hissed almost silently as he fired, throwing himself forward and grabbing onto Sionis. Gunfire followed them to the top of a nearby building, where Grayson pinned his foe to the roof by the throat. " _Sleep."_ He struck him in the temple, knocking him out.


	6. Final Protocol 6

"Thanks, Gordon. I can't stay here any longer."

"I understand. The city is in your debt, Robin."

Delivering Black Mask to GCPD had not been an easy task, it was impossible to glide with the extra weight and it took more time than he would have hoped to find a police car. At the station the doctor on hand fixed up his leg while Gordon dragged a waking Sionis to interrogation. Robin gave a brief report as his wound was being bound. There was something else, though, something that deeply disturbed him.

While in the back of the patrol car with the unconscious prisoner, Grayson found a piece of paper in his jacket. Taking it, there was a single line written on it.

 _Aches and pains dragging you down? Maybe it's time to see the clown._ He knew it was a message intended for Black Mask, he simply had no idea how to interpret it. He was mentally exhausted and would need to bathe and get to bed before school started in the morning. Grappling up once outside, he glided across Bleake Island, relieved to be doing so without extra weight. Reaching the chop shop at last, he found a nondescript box under the door opened as far as it always was. Opening it, he found the thruster from Lucius and a note advising him to go back by different ways every time. The note also mentioned that the cameras around the garage had been adjusted, and he mentally kicked himself for having forgotten the task.

"Thanks, Lucius." He said to no one in particular as he grappled up the elevator shaft.

The next day he made it through his math and science courses before having to sleep in the library. Time seemed to catch up with him in English, where they were discussing a book he had not read.

"Machin. Explain the purpose of the king and duke."

"I'm not really sure, ma'am. They just seem to be ambiguous criticisms of authority." What really puzzled him was how _Huckleberry Finn_ made it into high school literature, considering it was written for much younger boys.

"Very well. Have you insight on the character of the sheriff?" He had gone over the passage a few minutes earlier.

"He seems to be a self-insert. Twain described himself as a northerner and a southerner, and it stands to reason that he would find things he liked and didn't like about both. The sheriff says that southern men go looking for fights and northern men avoid conflict to the point of moral cowardice. The larger issue of the book being slavery, I would think the character is really commenting on that." Machin answered, looking up and down the text.

"Thank you." _Of course, what really puzzles me is that goddamn riddle I picked up off of Sionis. Why the hell would he want or need to see Joker?_ The Joker had caused a riot at the Asylum last month, but his purpose remained undetermined. Ordinarily, he was all too eager to get back to his path of destruction, but for some reason he was quiet. _This is bad._

Class ended after a discussion about the funeral the king and duke had attended. Apparently, they were trying to impersonate the heirs of the deceased, only to encounter another pair of men claiming to be the same. To prove they were real, the heirs asked the king and duke what markings the dead man had on his chest, to which they eventually replied that he had a blue arrow. Declaring victory, they announced that the deceased actually had his own initials on his chest. Both were wrong.

At lunch he ate quickly and got to work. Coming in mid-year was less than favorable wherever you went to school, but it was good that he came from the academy, where he had already learned much of what they were currently doing. _Of course, the downside is that I'm not learning a lot. One way or another, learning takes time, which is most of what I don't have._ He set off for his last few classes.

 _I suppose this is what my life will be for the next few years._

As Robin glided to the police station it occurred to him that he should probably put some sort of fake scar on his face to wear when using the name Lonnie Machin. _Maybe it would be better if I did it as Robin. It's more believable he would have a scar all of a sudden, and I could even attach it to my mask. Eh, we'll see if I have time to make something._ Beneath him he caught sight of a long, red streak of motion. _Damn._

Flash was of course already in the GCPD building when Robin arrived.

"HiyaRobin,heretohelp,whatdoyouneed?" He asked without pausing.

"Do you understand him any better than we do?" The question came from Officer Bullock.

"He wants to be of assistance." Bullock raised both hands in response.

"Well, fuck me sideways why not? Not every day some good news comes to this town."

"The Flash and I can continue this discussion in private. I need to interrogate Sionis." _He's a man I can't intimidate. I'll have to beat it out of him._

"Great,lemmehelpyou."

Robin visibly hesitated, reluctant to allow the brightly colored superhero to assist him. _Well, that's the robin calling the flash brightly colored. Maybe he'll learn something._

As a caveat, he knew Barry personally, and in every way the man was to be admired. Allen was staunchly heroic, idealistic, just, and a great friend to all who knew him. _He's not Batman, though._

They entered the interrogation room, closing the door behind them. Sionis sat with his cuffed wrists together behind the chair.

"Oh, this routine. I see you have a replacement 'bad cop', Robin." A normal man in his position would be angry, or possibly frightened. Black Mask was not a normal man. Robin allowed Flash to begin.

Flash was already on top of him, asking four or five questions almost instantaneously. Sionis was more confused than intimidated, not knowing how to respond. Robin used his grapnel to pull the chair out from under him, leaping onto his chest from across the room.

"What did you want from the Chinese?" Robin asked, his boots compressing his target's airway.

"You won't- get- your- information-"

"I'm going to ask you this question again. If I am dissatisfied with your response, either because I think it is untruthful, or I don't like the way you answered it, I am going to beat you soundly over the next few hours." He knew Black Mask had hired Croc, as well as Hush. In Gotham, this is enough to beat the rest of the truth out of him. Batman had told him explicitly about the basics of interrogation a year ago.

"Robin, there is a distinct difference in the method you use based on your objective. When trying to make someone confess, the inquisition simply told their victims that the torture would stop when they confessed. What we are doing is about getting the truth out, not a confession. When I know a man has the information I need, I beat him until he starts lying about it, then reveals the truth, then lies again. Criminals have learned I want the truth and I can tell the difference between that and fiction."

Robin waited for him to begin.

"The Chinese are simply providing support-"

"I don't believe you. Gotham has always had all the help you need." He put pressure on Sionis's temple, where last night he had struck him with what force he could manage.

"Fine! Fine! There's also the matter of establishing a trade route across the Pacific." Robin scowled. _Most of the illegal products coming out of the far east are sex slaves, stolen software, and drugs._

"Where does Two-Face fit into this?"

"He's working under Tomaso- that's all I know about him." _The Panessa family is active again._

"The mobs are competing. This is a war."

"Send me to Blackgate and I'll tell you the rest." Robin stomped on his abdomen.

"You're going to tell me the rest because if you don't you're going to suffer."

"There's no reason you can't go to Blackgate, though." Flash began, forcing himself to talk slowly. "Really, at this point it benefits you to tell us who the other players are and what they want." Sionis thought about it for a moment.

"No one knows I told you this."

"Fine." _I don't care if they bust your ass in prison or not._

"Sofia has run up debts, some of them inherited. I know of only Penguin, Riddler, and Posion Ivy as far as her associates go."

"What do they want?"

"A seat at the table, assistance with some kind of master plan, and children." Robin would not bother asking about Riddler's plans. As elaborate as they always were, Nigma usually overlooked something simple or made his puzzles and riddles deliberately possible or even easy to solve because he had more waiting. The key to defeating him was patience.

"Children? She wants the Falcone family to introduce her to someone?" _It's not like Sofia's had much luck on that front._

"Ivy can't reproduce. She's too human for plants and too plant-like for humans." _Ivy hates humans. She uses them only as tools, and only when necessary. If she got the choice, she would use only plants. I suppose it's fitting she's realized that what she needs are more hybrids like herself, and of course they must have a biological tie, so she can't just recreate the experiment._

"Where are they?"

"If I knew I'd have taken care of them already." _He's not lying._ Besides being able to tell from his voice, Robin knew Sionis was honorable. Those who did not understand the concept usually thought Batman foolish for taking a crime boss at his word, but he knew better. Lying was basically bad for business and a sign of weakness, like striking women or attacking from behind. Sionis knew his reputation was not a convenience to be taken for granted, but a valuable tool that he had to earn and could easily lose.

"Where's the Panessa family?"

"Use your damn head."

"I think I'll use yours." Robin struck his ear with an open palm. Black Mask screamed. _Funny, Croc didn't like it either._

"They're at the film studios!" He most likely would have lashed out had his wrists not been bound. "Do you know anything about Gotham's underground?"

"I didn't know the Panessa family was currently based at the film studios, no." Robin responded. "I figure though that Great White Shark is likely to take over your end of it."

"Of course." Black Mask might have laughed, but he still had something on his chest. "My empire will be waiting for me. You'll be doing all the heavy lifting in getting rid of the other syndicates- and if you die, I'll never need to worry about Batman again." _At least he doesn't know._

"I'm going after Tomaso and all of Cosa Nostra." Robin said to Barry, rising. "Two-Face is going to pay Gotham back in spades, and I know where to find his boss." Flash nodded. They walked out of the room.

"IshegoingtoBlackgate?"

"Probably. It's not really up to me. He's not insane, so he's got that going for him." He took the elevator to the roof.

"WhataboutIvy?" Barry asked. "Areyougoingafterher?"

"The last time I checked, she was in prison. So far what has involved Sofia amounts to a dead Penguin goon, a couple of riddles I don't understand, probably more I haven't found yet, and the possibility of more Ivies. Two-Face has to go to jail, or at least stand trial. Every time Batman puts someone away, it sends a message through the criminal underground." Flash looked distant all of a sudden. _Well, as f_ _ar a man with the power to_ be _distant all of a sudden can be._

"It... really is going to be different now." The hero began, not at all trying to slow himself down. "I'm sorry. He was a real friend to me. I imagine you felt the same."

"I'll manage. I guess I'm dealing with it by keeping busy. If you take a day off, you might wake up to find it's been a year."

Barry simply nodded in response, which Dick appreciated. He and Batman had always been opposed to telling others how to grieve.

When they reached the roof, Robin noticed the bat signal was not activated, despite finding Gordon up there waiting for him.

"Didn't expect you to take the elevator. I'm guessing you worked over Sionis?"

"Yes. Cosa Nostra is back."

"Damn." The commissioner responded simply, shaking his head. "Who's the head this time?"

"Tomaso Panessa. The entire Sicilian mob is under his control. What do you know about Sofia?"

"Used to be Sofia Gigante, but her husband is out of the picture. We figure he left her or died. Big woman." Robin doubted she had gigantism, as she was tall for a woman, but not seven or eight feet. It was more likely she had male hormones, resulting in her abnormally large hands. "Out for revenge ever since Dent killed her father. Two sons, Vincenzo and Luigi."

"Now we know the rest of her stake in it." Robin's eyes narrowed at the mention of Dent killing old Carmine Falcone. There was something else going on, something from before he became Robin. "Halloween is coming up."

"I don't take holidays. I can't." Gordon started. "Unless you're talking about the Calendar Man. He might be our man for the body that turned up on Labor day."

"It's possible. If he's out I'll find him." Robin stood on the ledge as Gordon made to take the elevator down. "Oh, and I think the signal is broken. Whenever you get the chance, get someone on it."

"I figured when I came up here myself. It'll be fixed pretty soon."

Flash waited for Gordon to leave before speaking.

"Well, it actually looks like you have things under a sufficient degree of control. You say Batman had faith in you, good, that's all I need."

"You've got your own problems."

"Don't I know it." Barry laughed before disappearing.

Grayson stepped off the roof, testing out his thruster in glide. Clicking a button at the end of his cape, he sent a signal through a short, flexible cord to the device on his back. The force was more than he expected, causing him to have to correct in the air. _Well, at least I'll be places on time now._

Reaching the Panessa studios, he concluded that Two-Face going as far as Blüdhaven was simply a measure to throw the police off his trail. It was a simple, effective measure that he had never attempted in the past and the only inconvenience it caused was having to launder the money there. _By my estimation, he's probably still at it. That means he won't be protecting his boss._

Robin knew it was exceptionally unusual for Dent to work with organized criminals, but figured he knew about the current crime war. Perhaps he figured he could learn of weaknesses in the Panessa family, perhaps he figured by taking down all other bosses, he could focus on Cosa Nostra.

Dent was primarily motivated by injustice. Police corruption was even worse when he took office, the prison system was the mess that it remained, but for a short time it appeared that the corruption could begin to be cleared up by the court system. There was a wise and fair judge, and though the prisoners were getting out and rarely getting arrested, the higher profile targets were being seriously hurt by Dent as the District Attorney. Batman spent years protecting him specifically from all manners of threats. When his face was permanently scarred, he became Two-Face, though Batman once said he had probably turned before that, using his own brand of injustice to fight that of Gotham.

Grayson's memories were interrupted by the police radio channel on his wrist communicator.

"Red alert! I repeat, this is a red alert!" _Damn, how many more of these can we have?_ "Bane is breaking into Arkham Asylum!"

"Breaking _in_? Why in the hell-"

"Don't ask me, I don't know. We just received word from the prison guards that Anarky has already escaped with Bane's men."

"We're sending everyone we have." _It won't be enough._ The message on the bat symbol came to mind.

 _Make a choice now._

Robin hit the button on his communicator, twisting around in the air to change course.

"Where is he now?"

"He's being stalled by the guards, they shot one of his cables. We don't have a headcount on everyone who's escaped, but Anarky is probably too far gone. How far are you?"

"I'm over Panessa studios. I can be on the island before long." Robin was out over the bay, flying. There was no other word for it, he was flying. _And I don't have a moment to enjoy it._ He grimaced at the memory of his last visit to Arkham, delivering the Joker there with Batman.

"Just you and me, Batsy! Together forever, like the good old days! What are you going around and picking up young boys for anyway?" He remembered the Joker's cackle. "You're really going to start getting off your game, old pal. You won't notice it at first- no, not at all- but then it'll creep up on you. You've never been shy about putting yourself in harm's way, but now you'll have a desperate little birdy jumping ahead to prove himself." Joker's taunting rarely got to Batman, but Robin knew it was clearly getting to himself. Batman simply dislocated the Joker's shoulder. "Soon you're going to realize- we're alone in this cold and dreary universe- no two in the world quite like us and you know it." The two of them walked away as they handed their prisoner off to the guards. "I alone understand you, Bats!"

The voice over the radio jarred Robin from his memories.

"The Joker is at large, I repeat, the Joker is at large!"


	7. Dawn of Evil

Robin landed on the roof of the medical facility. _Bane. Bane is my priority. I can't let anything else get in my way._ He listened for the sounds of gunshots. _Neither the guards nor Bane's men will show any mercy on the others._

Finding the firefight, there were dozens of bodies lying on the ground. From what he could tell, the big man had already taken a few bullets and was on the retreat. _Most likely, he tried to brute force his way into the prison, not expecting that the officers were prepared for that exact scenario. They found him before he landed and used heavy artillery on the boats. Bane was chaotic in his approach, but not unpredictable._ Landing behind his target, knowing it was pure folly to try to land on him, Bane turned to meet him. He counted three bullet holes, two on a shoulder, one on the ribs.

"Una distracción- intelligente, Batman!" As Robin dodged eight successive blows, the firing around him calming, he formed a plan of attack. Bane had a new Venom distribution system on his back, this one lined with what looked to be lead, meaning he wouldn't be able to access the cables at their source. A lucky shot to the big man's leg, breaking through a cable going down it told him all he needed to know.

"Tus soldades han dejado, Bane." Robin's Spanish was passable, though he had mostly focused on other languages at the academy. As he dodged blows, he favored the side of his enemy's weaker leg, waiting for an opportunity. He remembered what Batman had told him about Bane.

"Bane is heavier, faster, and knows how to fight. Dodging and looking for an opening will not only aggravate him, it will wear him down. He knows he can only use Venom for so long before it starts to poison him." What Bruce had withheld was that when he dodged Bane's attacks, he did so by the breadth of a hair, conserving energy and allowing his opponent to think for a moment that his strike had at least glanced.

Robin sidestepped a straight punch, feeling the wind rush by his ear as he used the Birdarang already in his hand to slash open the cable, rolling low to avoid the subsequent blow. Another trickle of Venom was now gushing out of the apparatus. _If I get a chance, I take it. If I don't, I keep moving. I can't try to make a chance when there isn't one._

Around him he had a vague awareness that most of Bane's men had been killed, seriously injured, or had attempted to retreat. _He's alone._ Robin guessed the majority of the guards had been mobilized in an effort to regain control of the prison, which was why they were not riddling Bane with rounds. Grayson was grazed by his foe's monstrous fingers, forcing him to activate his thruster to dodge the next blow. Bane refrained from comment, picking up a pistol off the ground and throwing it. Robin dodged, finding it was a feint. The weapon hit his thigh, nearly breaking bone. Heaving himself backward, he knew his move was expected and he was right where Bane needed him. _But he won't expect this._ Ducking narrowly under a lunging punch, Robin struck the bullet lodged in his enemy's rib. Momentum worked against Bane; he shouted in pain as a fist went through his rib cage, fragments puncturing organs. Pressing the button on his cape with a free hand and placing a foot next to the wound, he caught a blow to his side as he rocketed off, his hand leaving a trail of blood and Venom as it traveled to where Robin landed in a heap.

Both combatants were on the ground, unable to move as the reinforcements surrounded them.

"Robin!" A guard began, shouting for some reason. "Are you okay?" _Not really._

"I'll be up." He rolled over onto his back, hoping that would straighten it out. "Bane's worse." Guards were surrounding him, weapons drawn. "He'll probably die without... medical attention." Managing to sit up, he caught sight of a helicopter approaching. "I'd say he has about thirty minutes." One of the men with a gun trained on him started asking questions. He was a red haired officer, the name Bard on his uniform.

"You organized a prison breakout- why?" Bane did not respond. "Was it Joker? Were you here for Joker?"

"Hey, I'm serious- he's going to die if you don't get him to the medical building." Robin said, interrupting.

"Most of the doctors are dead." The officer began, turning to Robin with the gun. "You have this goddamn wetback to thank for it. They targeted the doctors first-unarmed, many of them women- just to kill as many people here as possible, and make damn sure everyone else died of their injuries. You and your childish ideals will have to forgive me if I don't have any sympathy if he gets the same."

"You won't get... much information out of him if he dies." Robin did not bother to mention Bane had a right to a fair trial. "Get him to the hospital and I'll ask the questions in Spanish." _Bane can speak passable English and I doubt the language of the questions constitute the reason he's clamming up, but Bard doesn't need to know that. I can use his prejudice against him._

"Get him into the facility." The officer with red hair said while turning to Robin. "I don't know who you are." He began simply. _Do you mean you've never met Robin or you don't like the mask?_ "Now that I've been promoted to inspector, I don't particularly need to. I understand this administration worked with a masked-"

"Oh, God damn it are we starting this shit again?"

"If by that you mean law and order, then yes. I understand that for all your theatrics, you've been unable to attack the root of the problem in this city and this may be a disappointment to you, but I fail to be impressed in your 'victory' against supercriminal Bane, given that the majority of the assault was suppressed by these officers, and a single shot with a sniper would be enough to deal with him. It's a real pity Gotham has a woefully underfunded police department and prison system, but I suppose the upper classes of the city have better uses for their finances." Towards the end Robin noticed Bard was staring at him. _It's no secret that Batman is either a rich man, or being bankrolled by the wealthy of Gotham._

"When did you get here?" He asked simply, staring up at the helicopter coming in.

"I was transferred a month ago, though-"

"Yeah, that explains it." Robin grappled up to the helicopter, using the momentum to get air before gliding. He doubted he had much fuel left, if any, and this time of year was not the time for a swim. _There's a long way to go before I get to land, and longer still before I get to bed, which I really need to do._ Thinking on the officer he had met, the experience reminded him of a talk with Batman after they had turned in evidence of a drug smuggling ring, assisted by a dirty cop. The concept had confused him; his parents had impressed upon him that he should go to the police should anything ill happen.

"Police officers are people, Dick." Bruce had begun when they arrived at the manor. "They need money, don't want to risk their lives, and they do things like this. In the Court of Appeals case of Warren v. District of Columbia, it was established that the police have no constitutional responsibility to protect citizens. In Gotham, the reality only worsens. Years ago, before I met you, the GCPD was rotten to the core, the old commissioner, Loeb, was working with Black Mask, and the police were really just another gang, only not as well funded. Loeb died in the line of duty and Gordon took over for him, but even then he's had to hire people he doesn't know. It's a problem that we're going to have to face for a long time."

Robin swooped down on a gas station/convenience store, where he bought fuel for the thruster and supplies for the office, paying in cash. On principle he might not have used Vincent Falcone's money, especially because the serial numbers were old, but his own assets were frozen and the more money he could separate from the family, the better. Either way, he doubted the woman at the counter would care, though he was sure enough she would notice. People in Gotham had long since learned to be observant, but not enough to see things they weren't supposed to see.

That night his dreams were fervent.

He kept them out of his mind on the way to Gotham Heights the following morning, gliding for lack of hurry and as a measure to save fuel. On his way out the door he had found a false scar he could stick to the back of his mask, which would allow him a visible but not obvious difference between Robin and Lonnie Machin.

Arriving at school, he changed in the gym where he left his clothes, finding no one in there at that hour, as usual. As he finished his homework before class started, a young man named Orenthal Washington walked up behind him.

"Workin' again, Lon? How do you get any sleep?"

"You tell me." Machin responded, smirking.

"I don't know how you do it. I've got projects left and right, tests to study for- plus, I have to go with the squad here and there, I've got a reputation to maintain."

"I work on all kinds of projects, I feel like I get tested every night- and you wouldn't believe the friends I have. We call one of them Croc. Crazy motherfucker."

Orenthal laughed. "Any girls?"

"Too many. One's a kleptomaniac, one's got a clown for a boyfriend, one is after my night job and that's not even all of them."

"Ah, well, man, you know what they say. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em." They walked to the first class, which they had together. In it, they had met two days earlier when another student tried to 'welcome the new kid', only to be met with a reflexive backward elbow strike. A funny response, if a disproportionate one. Their Geometry teacher had told them to 'calm the fuck down', which oddly enough he was currently repeating to a group of students in the back.

The lesson discussed calculating abstract values from simple, measurable ones, but what caught Robin's attention was the explanation for finding unknown angle measurements.

"When two angles are opposite each other in an intersection of two lines, they're congruent, equal. The angles adjacent to each other are what's called supplementary angles, because they add up to 180, each angle balances the other out. What happens when there are two intersections, one line intersecting two parallel lines?" He looked around the room and a student responded.

"The angles opposite each other are still equal." she began. "The angles on the other parallel line are a reflection of those on the first. Both entire intersections are congruent." Robin had to physically resist showing the effects of his concentration on his face. _What does this mean- I know it has to- This is about the breakout last night-_

"Machin?"

"Yes?"

"What are angles that add up to a right angle?" The teacher asked, probably repeating himself.

"They're complementary." _Complementary as in_ _free. Why did Bane do it for free? His men are all mercenaries, they don't work for him full time._ He forced himself to wait for class to end before thinking on it more.

 _It's the old balance of power paradigm._ Robin threw his bag over his back as he stood and walked out. _Why can't I remember it? Why didn't I think of it before?_ He put his hands on his head, nursing what seemed to be a massive headache as he walked into his biology class. _Of course. It's because I've been stressed and not thinking. I've been multitasking my mind every moment of my life and the excitement of recent events put me on edge. Only by being in school do I have a moment to 'calm the fuck down' and think things out._

Machin retrieved his homework from his bag, the makings of a project in biology, though he was not at this point sure where he was going with it. _Maybe I should ask Poison Ivy for help on it. She almost certainly escaped last night._ At the front of the room, the teacher discussed the basic nature of atoms for the purposes of biology, since as a field of study it was a subsection of chemistry with outside factors included like the history and origin of life. _She was in the same cell as Joker, after all._

 _Oh fuck._ Robin's mind was racing as he wrote down everything the teacher was saying, doing his best to listen. _Oh, fuck those God damned medical hacks for putting the two of them in the same cage- probably some some sort of twisted punishment, though it'll mostly end up being a punishment for me. Take criminals who are already insane, and torture them. Stir well with other criminals. Fry brains. Best served cold._

Fortunately the teacher did not elect to call on him, but probably did so because she could tell he was fuming with rage. _I can't keep calling attention to myself like this. I have to wait until after school._

It was a long wait.

 _At least I managed to stay awake all day._ Robin thought as he changed, deciding it was probably because he fell asleep without protest, considering his exhaustion. Looking at his body in the mirror while changing was all he needed to decide to avoid physical interactions if at all possible. _I need to investigate the Panessa family, Cosa Nostra._ As he grappled to the roof outside, staying up out of sight while putting distance between himself and the school, he contacted Gordon on his wrist communicator to see if there were any active threats. _I don't know how I'll respond to them, but I might as well check._

"Gordon. Do we have any word on escaped Arkham inmates?"

"No. Bane didn't seem to have any intention of helping them, so they're on their own now. They don't have the resources to do anything serious, so they're probably biding their time. Anarky tried to go home, but there was a mix-up with his birth certificate, so his parents took him to the state department, where it turned out that either he was never born, or someone with expert level hacking skills 'stole' his information."

"We can deal with him later."

"My thoughts exactly. Anyway, I saw to the bat signal, looks like someone stole fuses and wires out of it. Probably a scavenger or someone thinking they can keep us from contacting Batman. Oh, and there's something else I wanted to mention."

"Yeah?" _Probably telling me to watch out for that Bard character._

"Barbara, you know her, my daughter, has been out late at night. She's been getting all her work done, better than ever, so I'm tempted not to complain, but since you're probably going to school with her now, I was wondering if you knew anything about that."

"She's not out studying or something? I've noticed as long as I take it seriously and get to work, I can get it out of the way pretty quickly."

"I don't think so. She has a pretty comprehensive database of Gotham's most wanted." _Yeah, he knows I'm involved._

"Your daughter has an excellent sense of justice, Commissioner. She's idealistic, like you." Gordon sighed, probably having decided he was not likely to get a more satisfying answer out of him.

"We're going to have to talk, Robin." _Damn._

After having concluded the discussion, he landed from a glide onto the roof of the movie studios. _I'm guessing this is where I do some snooping. I need to know all I can about the current crime syndicate war._ Not finding a convenient ventilation shaft, he settled for entering by an unguarded upstairs window, finding the set of what looked to be a western. He heard talking in the corridor ahead of him, moving away from his position. Taking cover, he discerned three distinct voices. _A Sicilian, a creepy old man, and a psychotic monster called Two-Face. I almost want to know what happens when they walk into a bar._ Robin moved silently to a position from which he could see them properly, staying in the shadows, which was easy enough with the lights off.

"I appreciate your having invited me to this discussion, Panessa." _Shit it's Hugo Strange._

"Please. Tomaso. We're all friends here. You see, I invite men of a high caliber as yourselves to partake freely in any information I know. I am no barbarian, like Roman Sionis. I believe you two will help me all the better if you know whom we face." _He has a strange way of talking. I'm sure Strange is delighted he's not working for a barbarian._

"We need to know how they're equipped- what does Black Mask have?" The voice belonged to Dent.

"Black Mask looks at another few life sentences, but fortunately for him, he has a clever right hand man to manage things while he is away. Great White Shark will be quite the foe. Cluemaster works for him."

"What about Falcone?"

"Edward Nigma and Dr. Pamela Isley are her creditors and associates." began Hugo Strange. "It is unlikely that she organized the assault on Arkham Asylum, given that now Isley will be knocking on her door. For that matter I expect the Joker is on his own side."

"Who do you think did it, then?" Two-Face asked.

"Probably the shark, given what we know of his plans for tonight. He showed a rare level of originality in using Bane as a distraction, most likely telling him that there would be fewer guards, or possibly an evacuation planned. Whatever he said, he lied, and Bane paid the price for the success of his plans."

"Well, what were his plans?"

"You have not heard? Hamilton Hill has been killed and replaced."


	8. Dawn of Evil 2

_Why him?_ As a mayor, Hamilton Hill was not exceptionally active. Imposed by Rupert Thorne, Robin supposed that they simply wanted to impose a mayor of their own, but the original worked against Batman and Gordon rather well, constantly blaming the city's crime on both of them.

"Strange- why is the window open?"

"Astute observation, Dent. I suspect a simple reason, but it seems rather hard to reach from the floor. Tomaso, keep your eye on it." _Damn. I need to move before Strange can sweep the room._ Crawling into a set building from a side window, he spied Strange moving to go around back of the buildings and Two-Face in the middle of the room, watching for any sign of movement with his weapon drawn. _Dent's a crack shot. This is almost like a real_ _western_. Looking around, he spotted a door in the middle of a sunset painted onto the wall. _Well, I'll be damned._ As he made his way through the set buildings, careful to move only when Dent looked the other way, he noticed Strange getting closer from behind. _He's probably not carrying fear gas- but even then I can't risk it. If he sees me, Two-Face knows my position._ Light reflected from the silver glasses of the doctor crept around the floor as Robin pressed himself against the wall under the window. He dared not breathe a sigh of relief as they at last disappeared. _They're almost done checking the room. I could just wait and leave after that._

"See anything?"

"More than enough. From several set windows left open, there is a perfect certainty that someone is in here, and was listening to our entire conversation. His exact position eludes me." _That's the end of that. I need to get to the door._ Waiting for an opening, Robin heaved himself out of a side window, already being close to the side door. Opening it and closing it behind him, he found himself in a closet. _What I really need to do is stop being an idiot._ There was no way out that he could discern. _Even if I can take out Two-Face the others would be on top of me in minutes. I'm certain they heard me close the door._

Robin scanned his gadgetry for anything that could be of any use. _They'd hear the freeze pellet go off- and even if I could seal the door I'd be trapped as long as they know I'm in here._ On the ceiling he saw a large spider in the center of a web. _How about we trade places?_ Hearing footsteps outside, he grabbed the corners farthest from the door and moved them to the wall around the door. Jumping to the ceiling himself, he felt his injuries as he extended all four limbs to hold himself up. Strange opened the door, shaking the web off of him and killing the spider as it landed on the ground.

"He's not in here. Probably opened and closed the door as a diversion, quietly enough to be convincing. Clever."

"Seal this room." Panessa said simply as two sets of footsteps approached from the other entrance. _This just keeps getting worse. I can't open this door without drawing attention to myself and I don't have another way out._ Robin activated his wrist communicator, but there was no response from either Lucius or Gordon. _I doubt I can even contact Lucius any longer, but it was worth a shot._

"Nonno, we actually came here to tell you about a hostage we have. I think I've seen her before."

"You say this every time you see a pretty girl, Pietro."

"No, I was being held by the cops-" _Damn._ Robin did not allow himself to believe it could be anyone. _I should have thought she'd be on Bleake Island. It's the area she knows best._

"I may get to that later. I have a job for you. Do it." They got to work without another word. _Any amount of explosive I use to go through the wall would knock me out or worse._

"Who is it anyway?" Dent asked as Robin threw a Birdarang out the crack in the door. _That's one tool I'm not getting back any time soon._ Opening the door and rolling out of it, closing it behind him with a kick, he jumped behind a set piece, not knowing the locations of his enemies.

"Don't." Strange began. "It's a distraction again. Catwoman employs an array of tricks to divert the attention of armed guards, as theft is her prerogative by nature."

"The Cat? She's here?"

"That would be my supposition." Looking up over the barrel Robin's eyes widened as he saw a canister of concentrated Fear Gas come out of the doctor's coat. "She has a grudge against the both of us after all- and is not above petty revenge." _Good, good, let your abstractions blind you to the obvious._ The Birdarang landed after having made an arc in the air. "This too, is a trick. Pay it no mind. You all have had your immunity dosage, anyway." The gas spread quickly through the room and the wrist communicator made a sound.

"Someone contacted this line?" It was Bard's voice. _Not so loud, damn you._ Bullets rained on Robin's position as he rolled behind a set building.

"Panessa Studios. I have a visual on Two-Face and Hugo Strange." _Well, that isn't true. They're just approaching from behind, about to kill me._

"Roger." _I can't distract them, I have to funnel them._

"Don't follow the movement, District Attorney. The gas will draw her out."

"She's more valuable to us alive." Two-Face responded, ignoring the order. Awaiting his approach, Robin readied a freeze pellet. _Straight at the head, and he'll go into a state of shock. Nothing else will bring this madman down. He's not the only one in the room with a gun, but he's the best shot by a country mile._ "Where are you, Cat?" Waiting for him to pass the structure, after looking in it, Robin stood and fired his grapnel gun out the open window to the window in full view, tossing the pellet at the back of his enemy's head. Dent reacted, screaming as he vaulted out of the structure and allowed his gadget to pull him up, using the thruster to assist his climb and subsequent exodus out the open window. Bullets trailed after him, but he turned sharply and grappled up to the roof. _Gordon's daughter._ Robin sprinted across the rooftop, looking for an access point. _They have her where she can't be seen from outside, but it's so she can't see the outside. Kidnappers don't allow their hostages to see exits to convince them that there's no chance of escape._ Blue lights flashed from the street, meaning at least one vehicle had already arrived, though he expected that this was a normal occurrence for the mob. _What they won't expect is Bard._ Finding a pipe into the boiler room from ground level, he glided down and crawled inside, the heat burning his elbows. _I have to get her out before they realize the police know what they're doing here._ Robin caught sight of two armed guards, but neither of them would expect him. Unable to access his gadgets, he put the first guard in a sleeper hold with his legs still in the pipe, figuring he could retreat if needed. Once the first went unconscious, he approached the second from behind, finding he was watching the stairs.

"Tell me where the girl is." He ordered as he struck the man in the back of the head with his extending staff. The guard tried to fire, but Robin brought his own weapon down on his foe's arms. "I'm not going to ask again."

"She's in the- closet." he answered as Robin knocked him out before opening the closet door with a Birdarang in the lock mechanism. Barbara stumbled out. _Wow, something actually worked this evening._

"I'd have thought they would tie you up."

"I got out."

"Good. We're going out the pipe." A canister of Fear gas rolled in as he spoke.

"That pipe?" Barbara asked, decidedly unwilling.

"Well played, Robin, but not well enough." _Strange._

"The police are already here." He said as he grabbed the unit and wrapped it up in his cape.

"Tomaso's men are dealing with them. I shall not be long."

"What's your angle, Strange?" _Panessa's plan not elaborate enough for you?_

"I have never worked for foolish men, Robin. I would prefer, however, those who have the proper use and respect for my talents and intellect." From the sirens outside he knew the doctor was already away.

"Through the pipe, Barbara. He's gone." The girl looked visibly shaken, but more or less alright. He heard sounds coming from up the stairs. "I'll hold them off." Breaking a section of pipe off the boiler, hot steam blew through the room. _They won't be able to follow us. In a minute, they won't even be able to see anything._ He got into the pipe immediately after the girl, whose hands and knees were likely burning, but there was nothing to be done about it. As they got out to the sounds of sirens and the welcome blue lights he noticed second degree burns on her hands. "You'll live." She glared at him.

"You really are his son, aren't you?" Robin caught sight of Gordon and Bard. They stared for a moment.

"I found her in the boiler room. I suspect they-"

"That's enough." Gordon said, cutting him off. "Take it from here."

"What happened to Strange? Do you have him?" He wondered whether asking Bard would be to any effect.

"As far as we know, Hugo Strange was never here. We shot Two-Face and Panessa." He muttered a word while looking the other way. "I have doubts either will survive, but should that unhappy eventuality come around, they will wake in handcuffs at Gotham General. You, on the other hand- what do you have in your cape?"

"Oh, Strange kind of tossed a unique Fear gas canister at me and I had to contain it. Kind of weird, isn't it? How he was never here but he tried to kill Barbara and me and I have proof of it?" He managed to click the unit closed, then handed it to the officer.

"Very well, then, we'll let you go this time. If however, you again endanger Miss Gordon in some bizarre attempt to prove your worth to the department-"

"Look, I overheard the Sicilians talking about her-"

"For all we know you used her as bait. You're the only one here wearing a mask." Robin had heard this line before and as in every other instance, it was his cue to leave and he grappled up without another word. _I'm not working with that asshole outsider. He doesn't know Gotham and he doesn't know me._ He glided from the roof in the general direction of the hospital, way out in Kubrick district, West Gotham. _Now that I know where Bard stores injured criminals, I can talk to Bane._ Accelerating, he spotted a southbound freight truck, where he landed. _At some point, though, I really have to talk to Barbara. If she's not convinced to stay out of it after what happened, she never will be._

Gotham General took time to reach, but with any luck, his wounds were still healing.

"Is Bane here? I'm on official business." He figured asking at the front desk would be at least be worth a shot.

"He isn't lucid at the moment." The desk clerk responded, not looking. "You'll have to wait." Robin did not have a problem with waiting. He took the elevator up and fell asleep in the corner in the room where Bane was not only handcuffed, but bound at the feet with 'super cuffs', the common term for cuffs made of Nth metal.

Waking to the sound of Bane's irregular heartbeat, he checked his wrist communicator to see only a few hours had passed. _Good. I can still get back and sleep some before school._

"Bane." Robin began, making sure he was awake. "I know Black Mask organized the breakout at Arkham. Why did you do it?" The mercenary responded with a confused expression. _Let's try this again._ "Yo sé que Máscara Negra organizó el escape de Asilo Arkham. ¿Por qué él ayudaste?"

"Necesité el dinero. Era un trabajo." _I suppose he has no reason to lie at this point._ "¿Dónde está Batman? La verdad."

"Voy a contarte si mis preguntas contestas. ¿Que quiere Sionis?" There was something decidedly different about Bane. Lying in a hospital bed, he was bereft of his rage and savagery.

"Es el balance de poder, Robin." _The balance of power, of course._ "Hay una guerra en Gotham entre las familias antiguas. Hombres como yo, tu, y Batman- somos piezas de ajedrez. No más para mi. Volverá a mi pais y nunca voy a regresar." Robin stood silently as he waited for Bane to finish talking. _It seems like he already knows._

"Batman murió el sábado."

"Lo sabía... Era un hombre de honor. Era mi enemigo, mi rival, pero sabía que nunca enviaría un niño en su lugar. Como un segundo, levantaste para tomar su lugar." _Bane's out. He's simply out, over and done with Gotham. I don't know if he'll be doing the same thing in Santa Prisca, but I can't stop him if he does._ Robin walked out of the room, having decided that there was no more to learn. He knew the balance of power, the reason Black Mask dumped out Arkham's worst on Gotham.

"The balance of power is ultimately what keeps the conflict in the city from coming to any manner of end, Robin." Batman had told him. At the time, they were tracking down a serial rapist who was most likely connected to Rupert Thorne. "Hamilton Hill is merely a tool. He uses what little power he has to attack me through the press because few people like me and it never has a negative result. Men like Carmine Falcone and Rupert Thorne control Gotham. They cooperate, but compete with each other over illegal trades, and vie for total control indirectly, sending assassins to kill each other and monsters to disrupt their operations. Most of the time, they need some basic sense of rule of law in order to operate, so they allow the GCPD to catch and imprison criminals here and there. They can't have the banks being robbed, after all. They avoid direct confrontation with each other for the same reason. When the city is quiet, the profits are high." Batman pointed a man out on the street and they set to following him along the rooftops. "Mostly, things stay under control and the mobs are content with the arrangement. The variables are the psychopaths."

"Psychopaths?"

"Dangerously unstable criminals- Calendar Man, Dr. Phosphorous, Joker- some of them even have abilities like Poison Ivy or technology like Mr. Freeze. Quite simply, they disrupt the balance. They kill policemen, which causes unorganized crime to spike, they scare businessmen into leaving Gotham, they rob banks and burn them to the ground. The crime families really have no effective recourse against them."

"That's where we come in." Robin realized, stopping suddenly.

"Yes, unfortunately by protecting the citizens we also protect the corrupt city government and the mobs." Batman responded, not missing a beat as he honed in on the target, turning into an alley. "Allowed their way, any one of the more powerful psychopaths would probably effectively destroy Gotham. People would scatter, structures would fall, and the evil and corrupt would move on." They landed on either side of the criminal in the alley. He sprinted toward Robin, as would happen. "Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot." Batman said as Robin took down the target in a few blows with his staff. "They're also parasites. When the host dies, they move on."

"What happens when the balance falls?" He asked while getting out wrist ties.

"War."

Robin glided into the chop shop as his mind returned to the present, the pale light of a streetlamp flickering above him. _I'll have to see if I can find Barbara at school tomorrow. I need to talk with her._

He found a small black and white television set in one of the offices and turned it on to drown out the domestic argument in a nearby building.

"We're looking at a mangled corpse in the streets of the Bowery- yes apparently the head has been _gnawed_ from the shoulders. We can't tell what kind of creature is capable of such a thing, but there appears to be fur on the body, suggesting a mammal." Through the grainy colorless image he could make out Vicki Vale, the most famous journalist in Gotham. _Legend has it, she's not even corrupt._

"How did it get to the street? Did anyone see it arrive?" Scanning the blurred image, Robin could tell the body was mangled, but it had at no point been hit by a vehicle, nor were there skid marks showing efforts to avoid it. _How is that possible?_

"If what we have heard is correct, it quite literally fell from the sky, though there is no word on what dropped it."

"You know, this is all very interesting, but one thing I have to ask- where is Batman on this?" the other newscaster asked. "Look, I know he's a bit controversial, but isn't it a little odd that no one's seen him in a while? We're in the middle of a crime wave- isn't his thing supposed to be beating up criminals? Wasn't the body covered in prison tats?"

Robin deactivated the television. _It doesn't matter how the rest of this conversation goes. I've done all I can._

Turning off the lights, he collapsed into the bed and fell asleep.


	9. Dawn of Evil 3

As usual, Thursday morning was nothing over which to be excited.

The mundane state of affairs around Grayson was almost insulting, that there were those who simply lived apart from the reality of the world around them. _Sometimes I wonder what I'm even doing here._ He stared at the school from a distance before going in. He had purposefully arrived early in hopes of finding Barbara. _I don't know her schedule or anything, only that she arrives early to study in the library. I've seen her there a few times._

He found her reading Dostoyevsky on the third floor, alone of course. In the stack of books next to her he counted Adam Smith and Karl Marx along with standard text books.

"You know, you do not get an education from just what they provide here." Barbara began, noticing him but refraining from looking up. "It is because what you get, everyone has. Then no one can distinguish you as being any more knowledgeable. That is why your education is incomplete. It does not serve the purpose of putting you ahead."

"There are only so many jobs, Barbara. Employers have to know which applicants are the better than others."

"I know." She looked up and they stared at each other in silence. "Are you expecting me to thank you?" She asked unexpectedly. "I suppose I should, since at least it lead to my learning what your enemies are like- beyond what you can learn from reading about them."

"Why does everyone keep- Barbara, I did not in any way orchestrate your capture by the Sicilian mob."

"That is not what they told me." His eyes narrowed. _So that's how Bard got the idea._ "They said they had seen you in the area. One of them knew you were investigating them and from your position in the sky, he was certain you saw me and led them to my position to get them off your trail."

"And you believed them because they didn't have any reason to lie about it? That still doesn't make it true. When I heard you were captured, I was already inside the studios. I didn't need a distraction to get in there or anything." The girl looked back at him without particular expression.

"Fine. I accept your explanation. When does my training begin, if you still intend to train me?" _Well, I suppose that's that._

"That has more to do with the crime wave in Gotham. I'm having to fight for my life every night, and now I'm going to have to do it without your dad's help, now that you told him I got you captured. If you want training, you'll have to start by yourself. I've got some gadgets for you to use to practice." He looked around the room, seeing no one nearby. "Do you know where Vincent Falcone used to have an office?"

"No."

"I'll send you the address."

"Fine. If my father lets me out of the house ever again, I can be there."

The rest of the day went well enough that he had no complaints, except possibly in civics.

"Lonnie, please explain why it is necessary to overthrow the government."

"The purpose of the government is to protect the rights and property of the citizenry, which is why it was established in ancient times mostly in the form of tribal hierarchies which gradually evolved into national royal families. When a government does not accomplish this task, it has no right to exist, though peaceful revolution towards a state of liberty would be better than a violent one. It is worthy of note, however, that when a state makes peaceful revolution impossible, a violent revolution is inevitable, and that is the just and proper response since any state that prevents nonviolent change has done so by trampling the rights of the citizenry. Of course, revolutionary changes whether violent or otherwise should not occur for transient reasons, as it is often the case that a mostly functional system has incidental problems that can be corrected." The class once again took to staring at him.

"Well, not the answer for which I was looking, but an answer nonetheless." _The stares are different now. What does it mean? Do any of them know who the real Lonnie Machin is?_

Class proceeded normally after that, though Machin never enjoyed having to explain Enlightenment philosophy. _Of course, that in itself isn't bad. It's not like people are born with a familiarity with Kant and Voltaire. What's annoying is when people dismiss their ideas because of how old they are, usually without even knowing much about them._

After completing his homework and sleeping for a few hours, he headed down to the locker rooms to change as usual. Orenthal stopped him.

"Hey, Lon. Are you going to the game tomorrow?"

"I've got work."

"The man won't let you off?"

"I'm filling in for him." There was a brief silence. "I'm sorry I can't go, it's just I don't really have a flexible schedule. It's why I'm always here so late."

"Do you always have work?"

"It's just the way my life is. I'm going to have to stay at it for a long time and I might as well get used to it."

"Are you going to do this job until you die?" _He's not asking because he wants something, he's asking because he's concerned about me._

"It's starting to look that way." _I wasn't trying to have friends. If anything, I was trying not to._

"I guess I'll see you around, then."

"Yeah."

Robin emerged from the alley behind the locker room mere moments later, taking position on a nearby gargoyle. _I can't resolve the mob war any more than I can be a good friend to anyone. I'm going after Joker._ He already knew where the clown was most likely to surface, especially since it was not far from where he had escaped. _Seagate Amusement Park- he even tried to move into the place at one point. It's even money Harley's going to be there too._

As he glided over the bay, it occurred to him that Joker might not be as motivated without his old enemy around. It was possible he would redirect his antagonism to Robin, but no one knew better than he and Batman that they were not the same person. He had learned things from Bruce and undoubtedly picked up behavioral mannerisms, but the idea that in some way he was an imitation had never crossed his mind and both he and Bruce rejected it entirely. The identity of Robin was by no means an effort to preserve Batman for later generations or in the event of an untimely death, eventualities had not been factored in its inception. Apart from the costume and gadgetry, the identity had been entirely created by Grayson. As he had recently learned from the profile on her in the laptop, Barbara Gordon had actually assumed her secret identity first, intermittently fighting crime, mostly of the white collar variety. Batman's notes had described her as 'well meaning, talented, but ultimately untrained, unequipped, and unaware of the very real danger that comes with crime fighting'. He agreed, more or less.

The abandoned amusement park, which had long ago been constructed on an oil platform featured a Ferris wheel that made some of the gondolas appear upside down. As Robin drew closer he could make out not only stop signs, but go signs, some of which had been arranged in a perhaps deliberately precarious manner. Signs were printed in multiple languages, though he knew for a fact the Spanish was wrong, and was sufficiently suspicious of the French, Latin, Italian, and Indo-European translations. There was a car on display, and it even appeared to be engineered correctly and functional except for elliptical wheels, turn signals on the opposite sides of the vehicle from the directions they were pointing, and a second, by all appearances functional steering wheel in the back seat complete with all the necessary controls. As Robin inspected the vehicle, he heard a voice come over the loudspeaker.

"Welcome, welcome, one and all to my wonderfully family friendly park!" Joker's voice began. "Since you are no doubt here on behalf of my dear friend, I am one hundred and ten percent confident that you can help me prepare for his arrival. 'How?' you ask- well, it's actually rather simple-" A solid green man came into view on top of a concession stand. _Bouncer- somehow he's combined rubber and steel to armor himself- nearly indestructible._ "As we all know, our esteemed investigator has rather peculiar tastes." A man dressed in the dark robes of an old fashioned tax collector could be seen walking toward him from a distance. _Tally Man- a skilled marksman who always appears unexpectedly despite his 'rationality'._ "I mean, really, Robin- who else dresses like Batman?" Harley Quinn surfaced from behind the counter at a carnival game. _Unless the Joker has some sort of elaborate plan involving her, I should probably focus on the other two._ "That's right- you do!" Joker himself leaped out of the trunk of the unusual vehicle. "Who better to provide insight on how best to amuse our dear old Dark Knight than you!"

"So you figured you'd capture me like before to lure Batman here. Well, it isn't going to work. You're never going to get Batman here, you're never going to drive him insane, you're never going to get him to kill you, and purple suits will never go back into fashion."

"Tell me, then- Boy Wonder- how do you figger that? I wouldn't dare take on Bouncy boy here in a dark alley- or even a light one! Do you think Tally tal with his Talmud is just going to sit around while you do it? No, it looks like you're just about pinned, boy."

"I've got a secret for you, Jack." Robin began, using the Joker's real name for emphasis. "But I don't want anyone else to know. Why don't you come over here so I can whisper it to you?" Joker extended his hand, making no effort to conceal the deadly joy buzzer, possibly to distract from the carnation on his lapel, which almost certainly contained acid.

"Well, Bird boy I've certainly got something to share with you too! It's a deal. How about we shake on it?" He walked up silently and told Joker the truth, not watching as his expressions ranged from disbelief to anger- true anger, not the philosophical competitiveness he reserved for men like Batman and Gordon, not the callousness towards his subordinates, but rage.

"How... dare you? How dare you LET HIM DIE, ROBIN?!" He shouted, swinging and missing with the buzzer, the electricity crackling in the air. "You cheated! You ruined our little game and for what? To make me suffer? To visit the horror of loss upon a man who doesn't care about anything else?" He held up a hand to the others. "STAY OUT OF THIS!" Joker shouted as Robin drew a Birdarang from his belt. "You may share his- ailment, boy, but you lack his experience. You don't know- you have no idea what he meant! All these people in this mad little world going about their pointless little lives, gutless guppies who can't even conceive of straying from the school. I was alone. I killed the old commissioner, a handful of judges, politicians- all of them rotten to the core, corrupt, mean little men. He had a different way of doing things- and he truly believed in it! I would never have imagined it, but there it was! He saved _my_ life, Robin."

"You kill innocent people for fun. Don't pretend you were ever on his level." Robin stated simply, to which the Joker merely waved.

"Irrelevant technicalities. I prefer to believe there's no one innocent in this city and until I met him, I had no reason to think it untrue. But then- it couldn't be untrue, at least not entirely. I'd seen too much, I knew that deep down, he was really just like the rest of them. I knew he could be pushed to violate everything in which he believed." The Joker sighed. "But here I am, alone again." He could hear crying and looked behind his enemy to see Harley turned away. "And you're the one responsible for locking me in this prison inside my mind." Robin wondered why Quinn had never realized Joker cared not at all about her. He knew she had some sort of diagnosable personality disorder, but this seemed like a genuine case of not wanting to think about it, or at least that was how it made sense. "I'll ruin you, Robin, whenever you amount to something to ruin. Until then, I'll have my revenge on the killer. Out with you, or get bounced."

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." Joker looked legitimately confused.

"Well why the hell not? Do you really care about his miserable life? Look, it's not you doing it, it's me- there's no blood on your puppy paws."

"It doesn't matter what he did or didn't do. He has a right to a fair trial." _I also know exactly what kind of measures you'll take to kill him. It won't do to wait until he's out because the mobs need him again, no, you're going to blast down the walls and capture him so you can exact your revenge slowly._

"Where are you going to send him to get one? Don't tell me you plan to do it here."

"He's going to jail. When he takes the stand, he's going to brag about his accomplishment."

"And after that?"

"He's a normal man. He goes in a normal cell. Most likely, he'll go through a death penalty hearing."

"Just like that, then? And when someone kills him or he breaks out at least you didn't do it yourself? My, my, Bird boy you may just share his ailment of self-righteousness-" Joker began to circle around, but Robin stopped him by extending his staff. He cast an eye toward the others, but they had not moved, as ordered.

"You know what Joker? I don't understand you. If I were self righteous, wouldn't I be the one trying to bend the city to my will? Killing you requires me to believe that you deserve to die- that I can absolve the innocent and punish the wicked." He took a freeze pellet out of his belt behind his back.

"I don't put on airs about being better, Birdo. That's where he and I were different. Toodle oo, buckaroo." _You're not getting away that easily._ Robin tossed the pellet at Bouncer's feet, knowing it was the only thing that would hold him, even for a moment. Dodging a bullet from Tally Man, he supposed he could count himself lucky to have caught at least one by surprise. As Harley rushed after him with a comically oversized mallet, he used the thruster to close the distance between the robed man and himself, dodging another bullet in the process. _What can I do about Bouncer? Nothing's going to hold him-_ Robin feinted to the left and kicked the gun out of Tally Man's hands, ducking a blow from the mallet, which collided with his other foe. - _except possibly a magnet._ He saw Joker getting into the backseat of the unusual vehicle and driving it off the display. _I really don't have the opportunity to go after him- unless I get in the car._ Robin hooked on with his grapnel, making it to the bumper in a few seconds. _I can't leave these killers here, but I can't allow Joker to escape._

"I've got you now." Bouncer uttered, grinning as he made to jump off the roof of the concession stand.

"No, don't- I'm trying to get away here, pea-brain." The order went unheeded as the armored man leaped from the roof, landing on the car but bouncing off. _Well, I'll be damned. Bouncer bounced._ Robin ducked as he heard a gunshot behind him, causing Joker to get hit in the shoulder right as he was about to swat at him with the joy buzzer. Joker turned hard, finding himself along the edge of the platform that raised the park about 200 yards from the water. _He plans to leave by boat. It's harder to track and makes less noise. The trouble is, I don't know where the boat is._

"Stop the car. You're not getting away." Robin stated, grabbing onto Joker and the wheel.

"Cheater, cheater-" He reacted swiftly, spraying the gloved fist on the wheel with acid, regaining control. Joker swerved again, but this time the vehicle was out of platform. Robin extended his arms, knowing the fall was short and he would need to glide as soon as possible, what with kicking his enemy to free his legs. _I'm not going down with this maniac._ Pressing the button for the thruster, he managed to clear the vehicle and the water from the subsequent splash of its collision with the waves below. Grappling, he ascended to the surface of the platform, where his fingers were greeted by a mallet.

"GO BACK AND GET HIM!" He drew a Birdarang from his belt.

"He's not dead." Robin explained as he stabbed Harley's foot with the blade. "I don't know how he did it, but I've seen him go down too many times to be killed by something like that." Harley was on the ground in visible pain. "I don't know why he matters so much to you. You obviously mean nothing to him." He started again as he climbed up, not seeing Bouncer or Tally Man anywhere. _Damn. They've gone on to the next phase of the plan. The fact that neither of them are trying to help Joker means that either they think he's really dead, or this merely constitutes a delay._ "Then again, that's probably not a new experience for you. You slept your way through school, you did your residency at Arkham, so you're pretty much just a grade 'A' bitch."

Robin left without saying another word. He would call in her location to the GCPD, as he knew she would go nowhere. She would probably end up at the asylum, though he had doubted for a long time her psychosis played that much of a role in her criminal activities.


	10. Dawn of Evil 4

After his experience with the Joker, Robin had managed to apprehend some vandals before getting to the garage, where he had found Barbara.

"Nice cars." she began simply. "How did you find this place?"

"The owner vacated long ago. People knew about that, of course, but they leave it open, like Vincent Falcone is still trying to do business here, or that he will as soon as he's allowed."

"You look a little worse for wear." she said, apparently trying to shift to a new subject as he showed her to the elevator shaft. _She probably doesn't want to lecture me on how precarious this hideout is._

"I ran into Joker, who apparently has a total of two henchmen now, but he'll need more than that to get into Blackgate. He's still alive, I'm almost sure of it, but it'll be a few days before he attempts anything. I also ran into some kids who were tagging the courthouse, and one of them got a punch in on my face because I was tired." Robin explained while putting his arm around her and grappling up the shaft to the offices.

"Wait, you ran into him of all people and then went after vandals?"

"I don't go after after vandals, I saw them drawing shitty Anarky logos on Solomon Wayne's courthouse, swooped in, beat them, and radioed Inspector Bard for pickup." Grayson might have had a similar reaction before he had learned about Broken Window theory, so he spared her the explanation Bruce had given him, figuring she already knew it.

"Dick, the mind of a criminal is largely unknowable, as are all others. Criminal activity, however, follows certain noticeable trends. When you see a window with more than one pane and one is broken, chances are all of them are broken, if not almost all of them. This is most likely because when the first pane breaks, the window is seen as entirely broken, and therefore it is permissible to break the rest of it, even though doing so is unnecessary. When you want to create a law abiding society, you have to enforce all of the laws, not just the ones with which everyone agrees, and not just the ones with the steepest penalties. Not enforcing laws against jaywalking, drug use, and public drunkenness, even if on an investigation for another crime, requires the police to ignore crimes that are taking place, meaning those crimes will take place significantly more, and worse yet, that the police don't care about what's illegal and what isn't."

Barbara returned his mind to the present. "Bard's an asshole. You don't even like him."

"I disagree with the inspector on many counts, yes, but your father and I aren't exactly on speaking terms, and he's a better cop anyway. Why call him to pick up criminals when I can waste Bard's time?" Robin found himself handing the girl her gear, or at least what Batman had managed to make of it. "This is a grapnel gun, you can't get something like this without money. The ultra-light cable is ejected with pressure and when the hook hits something or the line fully extends, the motor kicks in, reeling you up. It's battery powered and don't forget it. You need a new suit as well, which is why he had all this Kevlar and Nth metal laid out. I'm guessing he didn't know your exact dimensions."

"What's that material?"

"That's the cape, when we finish with the rest of the costume. When you need to glide, the carbon fiber 'fingers' become rigid to hold up the fabric, providing air resistance."

"Uh huh. Do they do that automatically, or do they need a stimulus?" _Damn you._

"It'll be there when you need it." He picked up a freeze pellet, figuring she may run into Bouncer. "We repurposed this from Victor Fries. When we're out of it, we're out of it. I don't know how it works."

"Where are my explosives?"

"You'll get those. Batman started me with a light belt to reduce weight and confusion. Only when I found myself regularly needing gadgets I didn't have would I add them to my inventory. This method taught me to improvise when necessary, which is something I still do. I also can't set you up with specialized optics for your cowl. I don't know how they work."

"Did he have them?"

"Yes, but only after training his senses properly. If he hadn't, he would have eventually found that they were limiting him rather than helping him." Robin picked up a few electronic devices. "You'll have a wrist communicator and a solid state drive, however."

"Totally awesome." Barbara responded without any particular enthusiasm.

"When the costume is finished, get some mobility training somewhere no one is going to see you. Burnley is quiet enough at this point, but I need you to keep an eye out for Joker when you see him, Bouncer, or Tally Man." _Definitely the right move giving her the files._

"What are you going to be doing?"

"Tomorrow night I'm going after Hamilton Hill, or more accurately the man pretending to be him. He'll lead me to Great White Shark, the key to taking down the rest of Black Mask's plans. I don't have a lead on Sofia Falcone."

"See you at school, I guess."

The premonition would have to wait before realizing itself.

In the mandatory study hall, he noticed a tv set on across the hall. One of the Green Lanterns could be seen on Gotham News Network, though he knew not if it was Hal Jordan or Kyle Rayner. _It's like it'll really make a difference. At least I never allowed myself to believe Barry would be the last one. I'd better get through with my work._ Robin suppressed a sigh. _There's nothing for it right now. This is why I can't concentrate and have trouble learning anything. I guess it was easier before because I wasn't as worried about the city being ruined by the mobs or destroyed by the psychopaths._ He had long since been aware that 'psychopath' was not the technically correct diagnosis for most of the villains, but it functioned without having to call them 'crazies'. In reality, they most likely possessed a multitude of different neurological disorders, but this was neither provable nor treatable. The human mind was more complex than the simplistic explanations for behavior that people generally took at face value. From his observations, even his fellow students who had yet to _take a class_ on the subject were already diagnosing total strangers, and they treated the information generated not as a possibility, or even a theory, but as a proven fact, like water molecules having two hydrogen atoms and one of oxygen. That alone, of course, would bother him little. He accepted the presence of things like palm reading and astrology, but that was because they had no impact on the justice system or anything else of import.

"Machin, what are you looking-"

"Sorry, sir." He answered promptly, returning to his work. _I've been drawing too much attention to myself. By being silent most of the time and doing well, I've created a character, someone distinctly not normal. As a result, people don't just forget about me every time they see me._

When he managed to get out of school, there was a note on one of his usual observation points. He read it aloud while pulling a vine out from between two stones.

"What's flying, humorless, unjust and mean? Who's clever, debonair, productive and green?" _Is Riddler just comparing himself to Batman again? He's done it before, always trying to outwit the famed Dark Knight just to prove he's better._ In Batman's estimation, Nigma was smart enough, but it was all he really had going for him apart from an odd sense of dedication. _Why is this helping Sofia Falcone? I suppose it's possible he's simply doing this because he wants to. She might be paying off some sort of debt to him as well. Maybe I'll tell him he'll never prove he was smarter than Batman- no, he would be happy to win by default._

Robin doubted he could track down Riddler with any degree of haste; it occurred to him that Nigma never really had to appear in person for most things, and did so only because it amused him. He glided towards the city hall, knowing the mayor was making an appearance, in this instance telling the public that the traffic problems were no cause for concern. _Whoever the hell is playing at being Hill is either close to Great White, or he has a handler nearby._ Scanning the crowd, he picked out a woman with a partially exposed tattoo on her shoulder. Honing in, he could tell it was a black mask. _I suppose going around in a full head metal mask isn't very feminine- or discreet for that matter. She probably didn't notice when her hair moved._ Looking closely at her, he determined he had never seen her before. She had long, black hair and wore an elegant, but ultimately nondescript dress, somewhat formal for a press conference, at least by his own measure. _After all, I'm wearing a red and green suit with a black and yellow cape._ He waited for an opportunity to land behind her, and found it as she was leaving, walking into the government building without anyone attempting to slow her down. Finding a grate on the side of the building, he worked his way in, finding himself overlooking the main hall. He caught sight of her taking the stairs up to a small meeting room. _Figures. The speech is mostly over, so she's done here. Unfortunately, I'll have to follow her on foot._ Robin acted as he predicted, silently and without attracting notice. When the black of the cape's exterior simply hung over his shoulders, he looked almost entirely unassuming, at least from the back.

"Yes, it's taken care of. Black Mask's men will fall for the trap, most likely." He plastered himself to the wall as soon as he heard the woman's voice upstairs. _She's not alone, of course. Why did I think she would be alone? Then again, why is she working against Sionis?_ Finding the door from which the noise originated, he entered the adjacent one, listening through the thin walls.

"You're sure?" It was a man's voice.

"Of course. Their immunity to fear only makes them more susceptible to other forms of suggestion." _Hill was set up by Black Mask or possibly the shark. That means there's some sort of trap for one of them around here. She must be thinking as I did._

"I'll take your word for it. I need to be off." Robin heard footsteps coming for the door. After the man exited, he entered.

"Who are you and what do you know about Great White Shark?" He began simply as she looked up to her unexpected guest.

"I'm no friend of his. His actual name is White, though I'm sure you know that." The woman began. "He started out as an embezzler, ran with the wrong crowd in Arkham, and I believe he was disfigured by a cryogenic chamber if I remember correctly. Currently, he employs Cluemaster in Amusement Mile." _Is it actually possible that I have some sort of ally?_

"In that case, you shouldn't mind sharing what you know about Hill."

"It was probably Cluemaster's work. Just before midnight on Wednesday, he had a call. It was only a few minutes long from the phone records, but he left immediately after taking it."

"Knowing him, it was probably some pointless trivia question. He went outside to ask what it was-"

"That was when he stepped into one of Cluemaster's traps. Simple, but effective enough." The black clad woman said, interrupting as she picked up a large red flower from the window sill. "The petals are wilting on the edges. It hasn't been watered since the real mayor was alive." _Of course- White- or the knock off Riddler- must have scrubbed this room of any of Hill's DNA._

"That's how we prove the two of them aren't the same person. You're pretty good at this."

"I have a PhD." she said with a smile, handing him the plant. "You'll want to take a large enough sample. Chances are, there's only a hair follicle."

"Of course." He said, taking the entire plant. "I have to be going, though- I'm very busy."

"It shows." the woman in black said as he left. _What the hell was that?_

Doing stretches on a roof moments later, Robin found his wounds had almost entirely healed, with the exception of his bones, which were still fragile. _Cluemaster's not really a physical challenge, though. If I have him down, the shark will be down to his gang, and even some of them will most likely leave. I'll have to switch my attention to the Falcone faction... or possibly Joker._ Looking down below him as he crossed the bridge, he noticed a significant backup, but this was within ordinary limits for the past few weeks. _What the hell am I thinking, I'm not a traffic cop._

He could see a Gotham City Radio tower as he glided, and decided it was at least probable that Cluemaster was there, as he usually enjoyed proving his superior knowledge against others in public. _All jokes aside, he actually knows a lot about a range of subjects. Considering he's also perfectly sane, he could probably make something out of himself if he weren't obsessed with finding out who Batman is and kidnapping people just to make him give a damn._

Landing on the roof, he pressed his ear to the surface to listen out for any activity. At the sound of an exaggerated ticking noise and a muffled voice, Robin guessed he was doing another one of his quiz shows. Gotham buildings were constructed with the design philosophy of workmen being able to get into the structure and repair it without creating an obstruction, and he was mostly grateful for that. Prying a vent cover off a wall with his staff, Robin entered what looked to be an electrical room, where several connections were rearranged. _Cluemaster probably intended to broadcast his victory- he doesn't realize it isn't working._

"You, sir, Darius. How about telling us the name of the theory that states the benefit of assigning low skilled tasks to low skilled people?"

"Uhh... comparative advantage?" Robin searched for the source of the ticking noise, but he failed to see it anywhere on the table with the microphones, where his enemy had three contestants handcuffed. _I'm sure they can hear the noise as well. Killing is usually out of his purview, though._

"That's exactly right. Martha, what is the reason we are most likely not in a computer simulation?" _Is it possible he has it in the pipes? The force of the blast would be significantly diminished._

"Well, I would think that if we were, we would never have realized." The voice showed the age of the contestant. _This animal, what the fuck is he doing?_

"I'll accept it, though there is a different answer on the card." Whatever Robin could say about Cluemaster, the games were basically fair, since he hated the very concept of cheating. Unable to locate the bomb either from the sound or from any visual cue, he resolved that the only way of saving the hostages was to separate the detonator from their captor. "Shin-tian. What is the capital and largest city in Niger?" There was a significant pause as he scanned the room for any kind of switch.

"Can you repeat the question?" _Stalling for time- does he hear me?_ Robin kicked through the vent, hoping to take down the hostage taker before he could react. As soon as he did, Cluemaster activated a switch, electrifying the floor, forcing him onto the table.

"This isn't like you, Arthur. You don't threaten people with bombs." The contestants stared at him with a mixture of shock and relief.

"Obviously- and that hasn't changed a bit. What has changed is I've become more powerful, thanks to my benefactors- I have all the little special effects I never had for my show. Electric floors, trapdoors, mysterious ticking noises, and even spindly mechanical arms that protrude from the walls to strike people." Robin felt a pinprick from behind. "Did I neglect to mention the darts? You'll receive the antidote if you win the game." _That, or I could force you to tell me._ His body almost immediately felt sluggish. "Really, Boy Wonder, you're off your game- I can only imagine why." He ended with a laugh before a club faithfully surfaced from behind a panel in the wall and struck the contestant who obviously hadn't known the answer.

"I think... you know." he managed to respond. _It's a slow acting poison. He likes to drag his games out, after all._

"Of course, but why spoil the fun? Now it's time for your question." Robin took in his surroundings while Cluemaster was basking in his success. There was a dart gun on a rotating mount protruding from the wall behind him. He detected the sounds of metal springs when he shifted his weight _One of the legs of the table is partially on top of a trapdoor._ As they had not been apparent when surveying the room, he guessed the trap doors had been perfectly flush with the floor, then the edges were painted together. "Now, Robin. Let us begin."


	11. Poison

Robin landed at the bottom of a pit, where a door was locked in front of him. Moments ago he had incorrectly answered a question regarding the Mandarin written language. _Damn it I knew it._

"It looks like the Boy Wonder knows too little for my taste- a poor imitation, really." The voice came from overhead, echoing down the dark, rectangular pit. _Keep underestimating me._ "I'll get to him later." Cluemaster proceeded with the questions. He considered using his grapnel gun to get up, but the cover of the trap door closed again before he had the chance. The pit was narrow and it was almost impossible to move his arms. Up above he heard another person fall. _Damn._ After a few minutes their captor concluded the game and the other two hostages were allowed to leave.

"Are you going to let us out?" it was the old woman's voice.

"Sure, sure, you will simply have to answer more questions. These will be far more difficult to answer."

"Oh... I don't know..."

"I'll begin. How soon after your husband died of cancer did you look for a replacement?" _I hate everything you represent._

"What? How... you don't know..."

"He does research on people ahead of time. He didn't take you at random." Robin offered, interjecting.

"That's enough from you, now answer the question." There was a long silence before she said anything.

"He... wasn't dead." she responded, crying.

"I'm afraid I'm looking for a unit of time, Martha-"

"You asked the question under false pretenses, Arthur. Let her go already." The sound of a door clicking open could be heard.

"How about a similar question for you, then? Who killed Batman?" _He's asking me because he doesn't know. I could say anything- but it won't help._

"Deadshot." He answered simply, hearing Martha's confused reaction and opening the door as it unlocked. Behind it he found a room with a screen on the wall, the masked face of Arthur Brown talking to them.

"Batman... no, he can't... my grandson..."

"Next question- if you could only save one of your children, which would you choose?"

"Abe." she responded, not even resisting. It was a sad and sickening sight. _Cluemaster belongs in Arkham._

"Perfect. You're good to go, though a minor penalty awaits you for missing a question. I'm sure you already know what it is." Robin was sure she exited, though whatever sound that would have told him would be too faint to hear. She left without a word. _I couldn't save her. I couldn't save anyone here._

"What's your last question?"

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know, Dick? Yes, I know your true name. After Hush went to prison, he told the rest of us about the rumors circulating Blackgate. Based on that and the premature disappearance of the bat signal, I surmised that Deadshot had most likely been successful in his mission he received from the Court of Owls." Robin kept his expression under control. _Of course he knew it was Deadshot- he wanted to see if I would lie- the Court of Owls? When the hell did they get involved in this._ "Don't feel bad, though. You did the best you could, I'm sure, but after a long enough time, the simultaneous disappearance of Batman and Bruce Wayne would be found out. Had I been in your situation, though, I would probably have sent several other men overseas, to the hospital, or prison, because with each one the possibility of your intellectual superior lampooning as a reclusive drunk would decrease."

"There's no one else Batman could have been." Robin explained simply. "People had theories about his being a cop or an instrument of the mob, but no specific individual in Gotham could really fit the bill except Wayne. We frequently went so far as to have members of the League photo op with him while wearing the suit. What's your question?" Impatience would get him nowhere. If he wanted to show Cluemaster he 'meant business' he would do it later by breaking both of his knees.

"Very well. What motivated the Batman?" _Oh, so this one's actually free response._

"You don't remember the Waynes being killed, then. I don't either, it happened before I was born. Bruce struggled with their deaths for years, he faced a total lack of justice, which in my view disturbed him even more greatly than losing his parents. People die every day and for two of them to be related to you is no particular surprise, logically speaking, and there's no reason it wouldn't happen at the age of eight. He had been raised with good values and had always possessed a strong will, but the fact that the killer didn't face anything resembling justice for decades made him desire revenge, which he would later realize only made the problem worse. Many imagined that he was essentially this steadfast stake in the current, but I highly doubt that he was completely static at any point, which is to say he was receptive to new information and challenges to his philosophy." Arthur nodded, looking unexpectedly satisfied with the information. Batman had a theory that many of the questions he asked were not to random people, had answers he did not know, and contributed to a growing database making him all the more knowledgeable, which made him one of the most dangerous men in Gotham, when not distracted.

"Your antidote, Robin." A panel in the wall beneath the screen from which Cluemaster pontificated moved to reveal a chemical bottle on a tray. "I should really mention, though, that as punishment for missing a question, you have received a slightly lower dosage than necessary to fully counteract the poison."

"Elaborate." He said simply as he took the chemical, making sure to save some in order to analyze it. _If I really have been presented with an insufficient dosage, it's likely only delayed my demise. I need to know what it is that I'm taking._

"Your intellectual leader would have been able to figure it out. I recommend doing so, or dying in the attempt." Robin ignored whatever else he would possibly want to say as he began searching the building for evidence, knowing he was being monitored. Regaining access to the upper area, he found nothing in particular and redirected his attention to the security room. _Radio towers serve as an essential city-wide means of communication, especially during disasters. Taking them down is a serious offense, and as such there are usually at least a few cameras monitoring people coming in._ Reviewing the footage, he found the point where Arthur entered, though in disguise. _He knew he was being taped. At least I have the point where he wired in the communication. That was more interesting than watching Black Mask goons help set everything up._ Reaching the place where the audio visual link was established, he knelt over it with a Birdarang.

"Perfect. I know exactly where you are. All I need is a little time to get over there." He cut a few wires, severing the connection. _I don't know where he is and I don't know whether or not he realizes it. What he's going to do, though, is he's going to come back here in person to fix the cables. He was here in person because he didn't trust the mooks to do it properly without his supervision._

Before leaving, he planted a small explosive on the electronic lock on the door which lead out to the street after having already covered all other escape routes. _He'll radio Great White for help, but I might get there first and there's no way to know if the shark will show._

His radio started to respond again.

"Robin? Do you read me?"

"Commissioner?"

"There you are- where have you been?"

"I've been tracking down Cluemaster. I was at a radio station, so there was probably-"

"Cluemaster? _Cluemaster?_ Lynns is torching the better part of Gotham East and you're going after Cluemaster?"

"This is the first I've heard of it. Where's Firefly now?"

"He's cutting off access to the reservoir. He planted bombs on the water towers before drawing attention to himself." _Bombs? He's expanding his resources._

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Bard has the situation mostly under control. It's unlikely we'll need you to bring down Lynns." _By 'under control' you mean he's going to kill a sick man._ He disconnected and set off immediately. Traffic below was moving inchmeal, and it would be impossible to use it to his advantage. _All things considered, Bard is really only going by his training, though he should really have been apprised of the purpose of a criminal justice system._

Making it out over the bay, he saw the terror unfolding before he could hear any of it. Giant bursts of flame flared into the sky as he neared the destruction, unconsciously accelerating into the scene of chaos.

Robin landed on the roof of a private dwelling, something he resented doing, but did in order to ready his grapple.

"I've gotcha Lynns-" He began as he fired and missed at the flying pyromaniac. "Damn." The cable immediately returned and he prepared to fire again. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he caught the attention of his target as the police cars came careening around the corner.

"Looks like Batman made a feeeew budget cuts!" He shouted while flying, turning his flamethrower on Robin, who had already tossed a unit of thermite his way. The explosion did little more than distract Lynns in his blast proof armor, but it had been the opening he wanted, firing again with his grapnel gun. The target jerked and dove suddenly as the hook pierced his armor, which would have disrupted Robin more had he not been harnessed by wires running through his costume. The electric motor pulled him up about half the way and he grabbed onto Firefly as he was jerked upward. _He can't use explosives at this proximity- his fire would kill me, but he would be too injured to escape the police._ They could hear shouting from the streets below. _His best bet is to climb, get out of their range._ As soon as each of them had a free hand they traded blows, but he was faster from experience and training. _If he's going to burn me, he'll use his thruster._ As they continued their exchange of striking and blocking, Robin noticed burns developing on his forearms. _I can't keep this up._ As Firefly grabbed his shoulder for a blow, he released him, went for a Birdarang, and held up an arm to block. The pain that tore into his elbow was incomparable. _He hit me with his damn flame gun!_ Robin stabbed his enemy in the leg and went for his throat with a free hand, at which point Firefly released him and punched him in the gut as they began to stop climbing, his hand no longer on the control.

For a brief moment they were still in the air as they both screamed from a combination of fatigue and pain. Compressing arteries, Robin finally succeeded in cutting bloodflow, which he used as an opportunity to restrain Lynns and knock him unconscious before activating his thruster to keep from crashing. As he stood on the ground, he nearly passed out.

"Lynns is out... he needs to go to Arkham." he said perhaps out of habit to the officers removing the equipment. Inspector Bard approached him at a deliberate pace.

"Robin. As I understand it, your intentions are mostly good and contribute to the safety of the city. Do not, however make the mistake of getting in the way. When you are engaged in hand to hand combat with anyone- Bane, Firefly- we hold our fire. Are you doing this to keep us from firing on the target?"

"This time I was. Lynns is mentally ill. He's not eccentric, he's not one of the ones putting on a show, he's the opposite- mentally compromised, but pretending to be a sane serial arsonist doing it for fun. There's a reason Killer Moth won't work with him anymore." Robin paused, noting that Bard was simply waiting for him to finish. "Look into his background. As much of a danger to public safety as he is, he's one of the only psychopaths in this city who actually is a sad, sick man."

The conversation concluded without significant delay, as Bard was needed with Firefly's gear. Robin guessed he did not appreciate the inability to fire on Lynns, especially with a kid telling him how to do his job, but he was not actually petty enough to complain about not being needed, or worse, not feeling needed. It was a childish reaction, as it hardly mattered who took care of the villain, especially when by Robin's method they would be able to question him. Bard was no child, and reserved comment that the police already had the situation under control and his energies might have been better spent elsewhere, probably because he had no actual recommendations.

He caught sight of Gordon, writing up Firefly until he in turn caught sight of Robin, simply staring. Walking over silently, he noticed the red flower he had stuck into his belt was showing, and was somewhat singed.

"What do you have there?" the commissioner asked.

"It's from the mayor's office. If we're lucky, it has some of the real Hill's DNA on it."

"The real mayor? What are you-"

"Hugo Strange believes that Hamilton Hill was killed and replaced. Maybe the original is around somewhere, we don't know. If not, this may be the only surviving piece of evidence that the mayor of a few days ago is not the same one of today."

"Is this about his recent tirade against you and Batman?" Gordon asked, interested but clearly unwilling to just accept the information. "If you ask me, that's nothing out of the ordinary."

"I haven't been watching his pointless press conferences. I knew he wasn't worth anything as a mayor from the age of ten. Was it another spiel about how masked heroes don't exist?" _I suppose I'm not really trying to get back on his good side._

"No. If you're right about this whole body double thing, the fake's a lot smarter than the original, because he doesn't repeat himself. On the advice of a criminal psychologist, he labeled Batman and probably you as psychopaths. They've accused him of driving the Joker and many others insane based on their sessions at Arkham." He paused a moment. "You don't seem shocked."

"I'm not. Strange said he was going over to Black Mask- I wouldn't take that to be true, but I can be certain it was Cluemaster, on team Sionis who broke into the mayor's office- this plan was probably Strange's all along, or he jumped in at the part where he advised the mayor to label me as a psychopath. I'm glad you've ignored the order."

There was a brief silence.

"Robin, Batman was my greatest friend and ally for many years, but before that, I opposed him. I believe in doing things by the book, he broke the law whenever it didn't suit him. Stealing evidence from crime scenes, breaking and entering, traffic violations, kidnapping- he had reasons for it, of course, but the side effect was that we would get calls about his activities and be distracted from other work. When the law doesn't apply to one person, it doesn't apply to anyone, so we had to chase him, at least superficially, which would get us in trouble with the mayor. What surprised me, more than anything, really, is that he didn't want anyone else to follow in his example. He respected my determination for following the law and discouraged vigilante activity committed in his name or by amateurs." He paused, turning to the moon in the distance. "You can understand my confusion when you appeared."

Immediately his internal organs sank.

"You thought he was raising me to be his replacement..."

"You were nine and he was in his twenties- the shoe fit, Robin. By the time he was too old, you'd already be started. He was too young to have a kid old enough to train- and then you came along. People in the department think this is just the plan coming together, even if it's a little ahead of schedule. It's what Hal Jordan thinks as well- yesterday he was on tv about how Batman had 'contingencies' for each member of the Justice League several times over. I don't think it's entirely true, I think he loved you. He was adamant like nothing I'd ever seen out of him or anyone else about making sure you saw the man who killed your parents go to jail."

"I remember." He kept himself from shaking. "He- never asked me to be Robin."

"Did he need to? Here you are, carrying the torch. You've killed your real identity, said goodbye to your former friends, except Barbara, though I think you see her as an ally. I can only imagine what she'd do if I died. She- she idolizes me. I heard her talking to you in snippets." He paused, reaching to his belt absently. "I've tried not to let it get to my head, and I've done my honest to God best at keeping her from following in my footsteps. I guess your father was different."

Grayson looked down to find that his wrists had been handcuffed.


	12. Poison 2

He was in the back of the car with his hands bound like a common criminal. There were no words for hours until Officer Montoya spoke.

"Jim, are you sure with all that's going on-"

"We're doing this by the book. We can't allow one man to violate it, and we can't go against the mayor."

Robin was mentally stuck, as if things had been put on pause, or he was waiting for something. _What though? What do I expect will happen?_ After a long silence the officer turned on the police radio.

"Any officers in the Kingston area- we have a report of super criminal 'Bouncer'. It appears one of the Green Lantern corps is here." _I should really join the corps one of these days. Of course, I'd be taking orders and violating people's rights, but at least this damn city would let me._

"It's on the way." Officer Montoya began, looking out her window at the street signs.

"We have a job to do. Robin can escape from both his handcuffs and the back of a patrol car."

"Gordon, you're serving under a corrupt mayor with Hugo Strange whispering in his ear. You have enough evidence to get a search warrant-"

"Two-Face is dead. He died of his injuries a few hours ago. Panessa has to be tried in Sicily before being tried stateside. Apart from you, we don't have anyone to testify. I'd take the plant off your hands, but all it would mean is that someone other than the mayor was in his office." Robin looked at the floor of the car. He knew better than to take any of it personally. The commissioner was doing exactly what he was supposed to do, exactly what Batman had respected him for doing.

"In that case, I have a right to know why I'm being arrested."

"Of course you do. You're an accessory to kidnapping and false imprisonment, you've used physical coercion on suspects, you've injured people who weren't threatening you in any way- misdemeanors include fraud, unlicensed explosives, unlicensed driving, breaking and entering-" _That's not going to work, then, isn't it?_

"Before you take me to stand trial, you have to take me to the hospital. I've been poisoned."

"We get claims like this all the time. Poisons require the victim to show symptoms before dying." There was something decidedly off about this response, but Robin could not pinpoint it. _It's beginning to seem like I'm really not getting out of this._

Gordon avoided the scene of Bouncer laying waste to an apartment building, being slowed down by the hard light constructs Jordan was producing to restrain him. _Maybe he's distracting Jordan- Joker had to know he was here- or maybe I'm wrong. Joker acts unpredictably. A simple approach like this? Why?_

The vehicle arrived at the station and he considered escaping as he stepped out, but there was already an officer there to physically restrain him if necessary. The officer mentioned something about taking him to the holding cell meant for Batman, but Robin was distracted by the lights flickering. _There's something very wrong here- something-_ Officer Montoya speaking disrupted his thoughts.

"You see, we built a cell, supposedly designed for an escape artist. Years ago, we asked Batman to critique the design and he explained exactly how he would escape, which was fitting since it was for him the whole time." She led him though a narrow hallway. _I could throw her off, but the officers behind would riddle me with bullets before I could blink. If I wanted to escape I should have done it a long time ago._ His cell was at the end and he went in compliantly. _Why didn't I?_

It was dark enough inside the tiny room, perhaps that had been a courtesy, but he could still see clearly enough to know the walls were not only completely smooth and seamless, they were reinforced with a grid of steel bars, which he could detect by tapping on the walls. The room was less of a cell and more of a cage- a cage for a bat. He had left his explosives behind, including his freeze pellets when they confiscated his utility belt. The police had understandably forgone the full search since he had been entirely non-resistant and more importantly, he was a minor, but they did remove his boots. _Whether or not they knew I have sleeping darts and a blowgun in there, I don't know._

The first evaluation began a few hours after he had arrived, though he might have lost track of time.

"We were ordered to bring you in, well, this time, because you were declared unstable. In order to use evidence about you in court, however, an approved specialist will have to evaluate you." Officer Montoya explained. It appeared to him that she had been assigned to him, or perhaps she volunteered. "The mayor pulled some strings to get you a specific one."

"He and I are personal enemies. That has to be illegal, or at least the evidence should be inadmissible."

"As far as I know, you'll have to convince the jury of that. Hal Jordan has agreed to oversee this examination, given that he knew Batman." _Did I miss something? Is it common knowledge now?_

They entered the room, finding the walls to be solid white and otherwise unadorned save a large rectangle of one way glass.

"Are we being recorded?" Robin asked, figuring he could incriminate Strange in some way.

"Of course. Additionally, Off- Hal Jordan will be watching." The door closed and the doctor entered.

"So, Robin, we meet again." _Well, I suppose that doesn't implicate him in anything._

"Are you going by Strange or a false identity?"

"I know what you are doing. Be aware that I've predicted it. Also, for the sake of transparency, be aware that Cluemaster, trapped in a radio station, made an announcement of both your identity and that of your deceased mentor. I suppose it was an act of petty revenge, nevertheless he has been safely squared away since then." _I suppose that's it for that, then._

"Don't make me repeat myself."

"The mayor has already cleared me of all charges, as I have been of great service to Gotham City."

"Can I be cleared of all charges? I brought in Black Mask and two or three super criminals this week."

"I'm afraid not. You are primarily here because you are insane. We would have to put you in mental rehabilitation whether or not you had committed any crimes. Additionally, you broke into the mayor's office- we have you on tape." _I can't change anything legally until I depose the false Hamilton Hill._

"Why is it necessary? Why can I not simply think as I choose?"

"You did not, at any point, choose to think this way, boy. It was impressed upon you. You are what is called 'mentally ill'. You are, of course, unable to realize it."

"How do you know you're not sick and can't realize it?"

"If I were of your ailment, I would be in your position. Someone else would have diagnosed me and sought to treat me."

"That is, unless they share your same mental illness. See, when you deprive me of the agency to know what's wrong with me, anyone can do the same to anyone. If something's wrong with me, you're going to have to prove it and you're going to have to establish why I don't realize it."

"Very well. You are suffering from multiple mono-thematic delusions resulting from cognitive dissonance. You appear to believe you are acting heroically, when in reality you cause chaos and interrupt the efforts of the police. You commit crimes and evade police pursuit, yet see yourself and your mentor as paragons of justice."

"The phrase 'paragons of justice' is going a little far in actuality. What Batman and I have done over the years amounts to a peaceful, though not entirely bloodless revolution against corruption and injustice, and committing crimes is a necessary part of this venture. We expect to be pursued as a result, not arresting us when ordered to do so would be a contradiction of police responsibilities, and we have arrested other vigilantes for undertaking the same actions we do because Batman and I are at liberty to decide who is and who is not part of the revolution, the most common reason being that others are willing to resort to murder. We exclude people for that crime and no others on the basis that when people die for the revolution, it ceases to be peaceful in nature." Strange simply eyed him distantly, making the occasional note of what he was hearing.

"That was an interesting response, if a non-compliant one, but we'll be moving on. You and Batman both suffer from multiple personality disorder. It appears he simultaneously believes himself to be a wasteful drunk and a vigilante."

"Both are false personas." Robin interrupted before the doctor could explain further. "He created the Batman to intimidate criminals. The Wayne heir he pretends to be is simply what people think of him, what they expect to see."

"That is the response I expected. One indicating a defensive mentality, of course." _At least my responses are being recorded. Of course, I doubt Hal would let them cut bits and pieces of it out- as long as he's at the trial._ "If he lived in two false personas, as you say, though- he would be suppressing his real self-"

"I knew him. Before I came around he had Alfred, who had known him since he was born. It wouldn't have been possible to put on a persona for Alfred, and he can hardly act differently around me when we're all in the same room together." He could neither see nor hear what was going on behind the glass, but from a movement on the surface, he guessed there was a reaction. He felt a sharpness and clarity that had not been with him mere hours ago. _What was it? It couldn't have been that injection they gave me. That was a tracking chip, most likely._

"This was the manservant?"

"Butler. Battle medic from the Royal Special Forces. Teacher. Lifelong friend. Take your pick, really." The question made his gears turn more than he revealed on his face, though being distracted would not well serve him.

"And exactly how did your grieving process work, in light of this venture of joining a new family to replace yours- at what point did you have the necessary cathartic experience to successfully learn to live with the demise of your parents?"

"We caught their killer. Apart from that I don't see how it's any of your damn business. Why am I simply presumed to have continuing problems with their deaths? How is it just that I have to prove my sanity?"

"You are not being asked to prove your sanity, this is an examination."

"It's an examination based on conclusions you already drew based on less evidence than you have now." _It's almost like I have him flustered. More likely I'm just on a roll._

"I had the evidence I needed from the standard-" _Maybe I'm just interrupting him more than he'd expected._

"And that's why this is too easy for me. Had you gone against convention and closed a few variables in advance, I would have more difficulty answering the questions. Yet you had enough evidence based on the standard metric for drawing conclusions, and therein lies the essential problem. The convention for applied psychology lacks a requirement for closing variables, something that's necessary in actual science. There's no way of closing variables, of course, since you can't break down the human mind and force it to process one thing at a time, so more than one possible conclusion exists to any given question. Maybe I wear a mask because it's necessary to hide my identity. Maybe I wear a mask because I don't like the way my face looks without it. Maybe I wear a mask because I'm conforming to the wishes of the hero's union. You know that I wear one, and you know a few things about my life, but you don't know anything else, considering anything I divulge to you may be ignorant, negligent of relevant information, or simply maliciously untrue." Strange restrained himself as he responded, cutting Robin off.

"That's enough. Clearly you are non-compliant." _I suppose that means I'm hiding something._

"A pity you can't administer your chemical aids. I can only imagine what you'd have been able to accomplish with the Fear gas you tossed at me and Gordon's daughter."

"I was never working for Panessa-"

"Who said anything about him?" _Granted, he hasn't actually implicated himself yet, but maybe I can still swing it._

"You are dismissed, Robin." The officers were already in the room and needed no further instruction. He considered adding that Strange's strong suit was chemistry, specifically in engineering psychoactive chemicals, considering he had been able to for the first time create an immunization for it as well as an entirely new variety. _Of course, if I told him to stick to what he was good at doing, that wouldn't be terribly beneficial for me._

He found himself back in the cell.

"Batgirl." He said into his wrist communicator, momentarily considering radio signals not working in the cell block, but it was unlikely. Prisoners listened to music on the radio all the time- there was hardly any harm in it and separating them from any aspect of culture was most likely bad for them.

"Robin?" She responded at length. "What's that sound you're making?"

"Well, I proved Strange's conclusions about me were of little use, so he's going to declare me 'defensive' and 'non-compliant'. If we're lucky he'll throw in some 'anti-social tendencies'. The point is I'm escaping, and to do that I need to carve the microchip out of my arm." He answered while incising with a Birdarang he had hidden inside his costume.

"Look, I don't know how you plan to escape- I called you because Joker's moving on Blackgate- he's got hostages in his vehicle and everything!"

"He doesn't have Bouncer with him- have you warned the guards?" Robin figured she had been practicing in Burnley with her gear and spotted him driving around like a maniac, but the details were unimportant. He noticed a blur at the edge of his vision and hoped it was just fatigue.

"Yeah- they're getting ready- Joker has Mad Hatter and Rag Doll- one I can't recognize." _Zsasz._

"Batgirl. Batgirl. Don't worry about them." _I'll get them whenever I get out of here._ "Your job is the hostages. They're most important." _They're also about where your skill level is, but no reason to mention that._

"Right. Right." She took a moment before saying anything. "I'm going to create a trap to slow down the car, then I go after the hostages. There are three of them, and the hostages are tied up. They'll be forced to lose their leverage- or their momentum." Barbara sighed. "Jesus, I don't know how you do this."

The conversation ended as always with a simple disconnect. _One of these days I'm going to say 'see you later' or something._ Robin examined the room, finding as expected, no viable exits. If he were to escape, he would simply have to wait for the door to open, though his best opportunity would probably arise either when they transferred him to a different cell- or a different prison. _Until then, I'm going to see what I can do with what I have._ He considered taking the thruster from his back and using it to wear down the wall, but that would deprive him of his best means of escape once discovered and probably do very little against concrete. _A freeze pellet could certainly weaken it- but I'd have to drill a hole first, and it'd definitely set off an alarm._ He remembered receiving no information about how well secured the cell was, but would be sufficiently disappointed if they had not thought to use motion sensors or at least some sort of laser system running through the concrete. _Well, knowing Batman, he probably had at least six things he didn't mention to them in case he ever found himself in there- but I can't imagine why he'd ever tell me._

Bruce had continually reinforced the idea of proactively avoiding inescapable predicaments.

"As obvious as it sounds, Dick, there are some situations that are so perfectly inescapable or irredeemable, that no effective measure to prevent them can be considered entirely unreasonable. Of course, it's well to have a plan for the worst case scenario, but when you only have a plan for that and the best case scenario, you've probably only planned for about ten percent of meaningful variables. Most of the time the worst case scenario takes place, it's the result of multiple unchecked variables compounding." he had said. At the time, they were in the Batcave reviewing one of Robin's first solo missions.

"I guess I didn't want to think about what I would need to do in case I lost the fight. It was a small thing, really, but because I didn't have a backup plan, they both escaped."

"You're learning. Next time you're between Riddler's goons and escape, you'll take them seriously." Batman logged into the Batcomputer and filed in new information. Robin remembered hoping he had not been keeping a win/loss ratio or anything of that nature. "Sometimes I plan for things that other people consider to be unlikely- or evil. The truth is, I don't want to think about it any more than they do." He noticed the page for Riddler's henchwomen, Query and Echo as Batman made note of their activity on Crime Alley. "I've just seen a lot of evil deeds carried out."


	13. Poison 3

Robin followed Gordon down a corridor and out of the station. He had attempted to break out, but not successfully.

"I'm taking you to your trial. Don't ask me how we got it together so soon." He simply obeyed, though he suspected strings had been pulled. Strange had enough evidence to prove him insane, however likely it was that the doctor would have preferred to have a recording of him admitting to it.

"Gordon, will you testify for my character?" He had thought of it before, a character witness would help somewhat, though not against the crimes he had committed. His only real hope on that front was that the jury would simply turn a blind eye and allow him to go on breaking the law for the greater good. _For my opening statement I'll probably go with something about how in a protest, breaking laws is sometimes a necessary part of it. Most protesters are obstructing public access simply by being in large enough numbers that people can't get past them._

"I'm afraid I can't. I worked with Batman, and if he wanted to train you while keeping you from the worst of the danger, that was his business. What I can't tolerate is you doing it on your own. You're even younger than my daughter- there's no way you're physically or mentally prepared for the job." His vision blurred as he noticed another officer accompany them. _It has to be the poison._

"That doesn't mean I have to go to jail." he argued as he followed the commissioner to the garage, where they got into a patrol car with Officer Montoya. "Why not have Green Lantern drag me off in a green bubble to some training facility until I'm twenty? That's if Gotham's still here, of course. Now that the mob families and the psychopaths have learned Batman is dead, they'll be acting in the open. I'm the only one who knows them- I can fight them."

"Again, I'm acting under orders. Not everyone in this city is self-employed." As they pulled out onto the road, Robin noticed the traffic was hardly moving. "Your belt thing is in the trunk, something tells me you'll need it when you get released." _You didn't have to tell me that._ As they came to an intersection, where they were stuck in the middle, he detected a tapping outside the vehicle.

"Gordon-" There was the distinct low hum of an engine from the driver's side of the patrol car.

"Look, all I'm asking is you is to show me and my respect for the law the same respect Batman did-" Two bright lights filled the interior as a semi raced toward them from the oncoming traffic of the intersection.

"GORDON-" Robin kicked the seat and swung his bound hands underneath his feet as the vehicle collided with them. _No time to worry about how this happened- I have to get my belt._ Forcing the back door open, he tumbled out to find Tally Man staring down at him as he fired through the window into the front seat. _Shit. Who the hell is his target?_ Rolling behind the patrol car where he struck the mechanism on the trunk with both hands, he narrowly avoided a round sent his way.

"The Tally Man always returns. He always collects what is due him." _Joker must have sent him after me as a distraction- the truck was probably planned- but how?_ The trunk opened, forcing the assassin to reposition himself as Robin broke the cuffs by jamming a Birdarang from his belt into the lock mechanism, freeing his hands. _He's doing a hell of a job killing me for a distraction._ His thoughts were interrupted by a bullet, which he dodged. _Lucky he's using a single shot pistol._ Jumping over the car, he kicked the pistol with his bare foot and planted his fist in Tally Man's abdomen, causing him to painfully recoil. Not allowing him to recover, Robin took the bladed edge of the Birdarang against both of his forearms, severing the muscle that led to his fingers. _I don't have time to deal with this miscreant. Gordon's bleeding._ He knew not how to use the police radio, but quickly found it to be unnecessary as an ambulance approached from the same direction as the truck.

As Robin shoved his feet into his boots in the trunk, he looked into the car, finding Officer Montoya's hand gripping the radio, covered in blood. The ambulance would come, but there was nothing they could do for her- already her eyes were glassy, the clouded crystal balls of a grim future; bright red life blood ran down her throat as a fragmented stream, branching in all ways and directions. Only the bullet lodged in the side of her head sent a clear message.

Total war had come to Gotham.

"Monsters-" Robin began at a growl, almost silently. "They will face justice as men." he concluded, hearing the satisfying click of his utility belt as he took his grapnel gun from it. The paramedics surrounded, but they would have greater concerns than a prisoner escaping. Batman's words came back into his mind as he scanned the skyline for activity.

"It's the way it has to be done, Robin."

Locking onto a sound in the distance, he threw himself headlong from the building, activating the thruster as soon as he lost speed.

"No matter what they take from us- no matter how high the cost is-"

They were in the Coventry, from what he could see and hear. Barbara and the police had managed to distract them- or something.

"They can never take our rights from us."

He sped across the water, gliding low to save fuel and compensate for his blurring sight.

"We can only give them up."

Using his grapple wherever he could, bridge beams, vehicles, buildings, he propelled himself ever further.

"The price of freedom is never too high."

Robin landed atop a building, the fuel in his thruster expended. _I need to find a target- something I can use._ Noticing a police car parked on top of Ragdoll, he suspected that he had simply been used as a mechanism to slow down the police. As he understood it, Merkel was a petty criminal most of the time, though he sided with actual super villains every so often. He doubted the flexible thief really had any stake in the Joker's plot, or was simply unaware how little he cared about the instruments of his designs. Most crime bosses would hang their minions out to dry if worst came to worst, but it was bad for business not to have some degree of trust. Joker was the opposite. The only reason to work with him, as nearly as Robin could guess, was because his plans were interesting and unexpected. Part of the reason he and Batman had for a long time filed men like Lynns and Merkel into the category of 'dangerous, unpredictable psychopaths' was that they were wholly unconcerned with money, other people, or even their own lives, leaving them with few actual weaknesses.

With his hearing he honed in on another car, followed by others. _I can't let Joker succeed. I can't let him kill more people._ Launching himself into the air with his grapnel gun, he disconnected mid-reel for the momentum going into a glide. Forcing himself to round corners sharply, he caught up with the patrol vehicles chasing Joker in a convertible driven by the remaining hostage with a gun to her head. _Well, I couldn't expect Barbara to be able to help her- she's probably elsewhere dealing with Jervis- or Zsasz._ Robin had reason to believe the girl had an accurate assessment of her readiness for the job, and likely to her disappointment, one that was growing ever more accurate. She was old enough to know better than to needlessly endanger herself and in all probability would refrain from caving to threats or mockery. As a result, he doubted she would be killed or worse and leaped from car to car. He avoided the metal pin of an electroshock device from the passenger side of a patrol car, reminding him he was wanted by the law. _That's something I can't afford to forget, even momentarily. If I contact Gordon or Bard, someone will know about it- and they'll report my location or face consequences. If I'm lucky these cars will at least ignore me in favor of keeping a bead on Joker._ Jumping from the roof of a car to the side of a building, he readied his grapnel and propelled himself to the top of the building, noticing the driver's seat belt was unbuckled. _This'll hurt, but she'll recover._ Leading his shot accurately, he fired and caught the hostage on her shoulder. Upon impact her captor reacted quickly, firing to find his aim thrown off by a police car ramming the corner of his own vehicle while the driver released the steering wheel to grab onto the hook that had driven itself into her shoulder, unknowingly allowing Robin to pull her from the seat.

"Easy does it, damn it." he muttered as he pulled her over the moving traffic, his feet firmly planted on the ledge of the building. Looking down at the understandably confused, pained hostage, he noticed that the flower had somehow moved from his utility belt to his boot, but fortunately was not touching his skin, as it had been placed in the compartment reserved for sleeping darts. _I should have known Gordon would find those- he'd probably seen Batman with a similar arrangement. I'll have to put more darts in there whenever I get the opportunity._ Thinking on the darts as he lifted the injured woman onto the roof and dressed her injuries, it occurred to him that he could have momentarily incapacitated the Joker with a freeze pellet, and though there was a chance he would still have been able to pull the trigger, it bothered him that he had not considered it. _I haven't had a lot of sleep- I think it's already Sunday night._

"Thanks... I guess." The hostage said as she stood, and Robin led her to the roof access door, kicking the lock upon reaching it.

"Yeah, I know I did a shit job of it, just don't go on about it." _No need to bother her with excuses. What I need to do is see about Joker -if he's even alive._

"Well, my little brother's about your age- how old are you, seventeen? If he did half as well I'd be impressed for the rest of my life. Honestly, I'm just thinking about what the hell I'm going to do about this fucking wound in the long term."

"Right, sorry." _I misinterpreted her tone, I suppose._ "Do you think you can get to the Elliot Memorial Hospital from here?" he asked, noticing his eyes were unclear again as he could not make out features on her face.

"Yeah, I've been there." She paused before turning to go."What's your name, anyway? I'm not calling you Robin."

"That's too bad." _She'll find out, but I don't care._

"Dick. I'm Sonia."

"Nice to meet you, Sonia." He responded in a monotone as she closed the door behind her, activating his radio as soon as she was out of earshot. "Batgirl. I need an update on the hostages."

"I'm heading in. Mad Hatter ran for it after I got the hostages out of his drug induced prison. It was pretty creepy, seeing them like that. They got Ragdoll an hour ago, but I think he killed a few people." Robin nodded.

"Good. Was there anyone else?" _I could have sworn-_

"I think the whole thing fell apart when Joker was captured. Apparently he surrendered." _That's not a way out- it's a backup plan. He's hoping they'll take him to Blackgate since he broke out of the asylum._

"Thanks. See you later." He disconnected the call as arms went around him from behind. _Damn._

"I've waited a long time for this-" _Zsasz- he sneaked up on me while I was talking on the radio so I wouldn't hear him._ Robin tried to escape his grip, but the maniac was ready, twisting around and holding him to the ground. _I was right- he's worked with Joker in the past, of course he'd be here now._ Zsasz placed both of his bare feet on his back, keeping him from moving or drawing breath. "The death of the Bat-" Grayson's vision blurred, impeding him as he looked for an escape route. _I can't fight him- not in this condition-_ "Without him around, we'll run wild- my skin will be covered- and Gotham will know of its pointless existence." He felt the edge of a knife on the back of his neck.

"Is your- existence- pointless?" He managed, trying a different tactic. He doubted he would be able to meaningfully reason with Victor Zsasz, but trying would not hurt, or at least not as bad the alternative.

"Of course- all existence is."

"Why are you here then?" Robin asked as he freed a Birdarang. _I can't win with him on top of me like this._

"I'm here to set people free of it." He responded with an odd tranquility, staring intently with bloodshot eyes.

"Does that constitute a point to your existence?"

"I suppose it does- isn't that fun? It's a contradiction." _Strange would love this nutcase. He'd actually have something to do._

"What are those scars?" _If he went through all the trouble to carve them, he's probably proud of them._

"They're people I've freed from pointlessness. I have 553 at the moment. You and Deacon Blackfire will make an even 5-5-5." Robin doubted the count was accurate. _It's fortunate that it doesn't take a doctor to diagnose him as a raving lunatic. A doctor might even have sympathy._

"What if you couldn't read them? Would you lose track of your purpose?"

"I keep careful count of them, Robin-" the maniac began as he drew his own Birdarang across his back, causing Zsasz to recoil. "-you've ruined it! You-" Robin stabbed him in the leg and rolled as he jumped. Landing, he slashed wildly with his weapon, giving him the chance to free his grapple and fire. _I'm injured- I have to get out of here. I'll take the loss if he's only after me._ He ducked under the thrown knife as he heaved himself off the side of the building, allowing the grapnel gun to pull him up for momentum before going into a glide. His assailant simply threw additional knives after him as opposed to vocally questioning his courage. _It never worked with Batman, after all._

From his every memory of working alongside him, Robin had never once seen him respond in any way to threats, insults, or bargaining. Initially, he had assumed that the reason he refused to confront mobs of armed men directly was a matter of practicality.

"It's more than that, Dick." Bruce had begun one night as they were developing the freeze pellets, taking care with the various unstable compounds. "Everything you and I are doing by night is an offense to prudence. With everything that we know about the city, wiser men would simply leave Gotham- but that would be the path of cowardice. The real reason that I don't care about other men's assessments of me is because they don't know me. I'm not above criticism, but I take it from Alfred, the only remotely qualified judge of my character. Journalists who profess to have record of my every move claim to judge me fairly as they do so by my actions, but this is ultimately incorrect. From my actions, I might be some sort of puppet the crime families use to keep the psychopaths in line. I might be a project by Interpol to regulate criminal activity without accountability. I might simply be insane. The simple fact that multiple conclusions are possible from the same data necessarily proves the data to be insufficient."

His thoughts were interrupted by having to swerve to avoid a sign he had not seen before. _I have to synthesize more of the antidote. I can't stay alive long like this._ It was well that he was in less haste to return than he had been to arrive, as Robin doubted he could have physically or mentally managed such speed after what he had experienced. Finding the chop shop at last, he glided down without attracting notice and entered silently, forcing himself to stay awake. Grappling up to the office, he took what remained of the solution he received from Cluemaster and placed it in the compound scanner wired in to the laptop. Blinking in disbelief when the computer reached an unexpectedly fast conclusion, he tried it again.

"Water. Well, that and some dye, along with a pinch of various spices to throw me off." He spun around in his chair, letting out a long breath of air. "Well fucking done, Arthur, well fucking done." He decided he would simply prepare for bed and get whatever sleep he could before morning. _I can't believe I'm seriously thinking about having to wake up and go to school tomorrow after everything that's happened in the last- I don't know, two days._ Grayson supposed it was simply because the continuation of his learning was, without comparison, the most relaxing part of any day.

Under the cover of darkness at last, he fell asleep surrounded by the extent of his worldly possessions.


	14. Poison 4

Robin's spirits had hardly improved as he went to school, not even as the flowers on the way there seemed to turn to him. He had been mulling over the simple amount of what needed to be done to protect the city, and it seemed more and more like outside help would be needed. _Even just between the time it takes to accomplish anything and the mob war, it seems unlikely that I can restore Gotham to a place of stability._

After changing into his clothes by which he masqueraded as Lonnie Machin, he finished his homework before class started, wondering if the real Anarky was scheduled to be released from juvenile corrections any time soon, though it really was not much of a concern, given that they would most likely realize he was a super criminal, and subsequently transfer him back to Arkham, which by his knowledge had been partially repaired. _No way the courts are going to trust the staff with watching Joker, though. After that fiasco he caused last night, he's going to maximum security in Blackgate- exactly where he wants to be._ In truth, he was largely unconcerned with the fate of Deadshot- the inside of a prison was hardly his usual area of operation, and if prisoners decided to kill each other, there was little he or anyone else could do about it. Even in maximum security, sharing a life sentence with another known murderer afforded too many opportunities for one to kill the other, though it was doubtful the world's greatest assassin, or so he called himself, would be nearly as effective in close range, unarmed. _Meanwhile Joker's had decades of experience in hand to hand as well as improvised weaponry._

In history class he overheard a television set playing the news cycle while he tried to listen to the lecture on Constantinople as the nerve center for the Byzantine Empire, as well as its civilizational relevance to Western Europe.

"At the scene of the events of last night, we have reports of a vaguely feminine costumed vigilante." _I'm sure Barbara will be delighted with 'vaguely feminine'. In fairness, though, we do our best to conceal our exact bodily dimensions._

"Empress Theodora of Byzantium has the expected range of assessments of her character from various scholars, contemporary and modern."

"We are as of yet uncertain of the figure's connection to the late Batman, but witnesses claim the costume was similar." _I should really have expected the word to have circulated by now. Really, though, the reaction has been limited._

"Empress by virtue of her husband, Emperor Justinian, she shared in his duties as a partner."

"Mayor Hill has already addressed the public on the subject; on the advice of a trusted psychologist he has declared followers of Batman to be equally dangerous, and likely suffering from the same psychosis." _Are they trying to make a joke about how little data they need to make their claims?_

"Much of what we know about Theodora unfortunately comes from the historian Procopius, who seemed intent on undermining her reputation with claims that have no basis in fact, as far as has been uncovered."

"It remains unknown to us exactly what role the vigilante played in helping or hindering the Joker." _They mostly do this to get people talking, though I imagine the public will have a more favorable view of her than it ever had of Batman._

"Twentieth century historians write of her advancements in the status of women, though critics of the interpretation claim a deliberate slant is necessary to view the ruler as representative of beliefs beyond the scope of her actions."

"Sources claim the vigilante is going by Batgirl." _Well, what else would she call herself?_ "The question on everyone's minds, however: Is she the new Batman- or the new Wonder Woman?" _Another farcical open ended question._

"Machin."

"Yes?" He responded almost immediately. _Almost, but not close enough._

"Would you mind telling the class what part of this lecture has you so bored you're staring off into space?"

"How do you know when a source is trustworthy?" he asked, half genuinely. "The discussion... had me wondering."

"A worthy enough question, would anyone care to explain? No? Participating in class factors into your final grade." A sigh answered the silence. "Very well. In truth, no sources are trustworthy, we're only going so far as 'usable' or 'not usable', and that's only after we've established that it's authentic. People of different times and places carry various biases and lenses through which they view the world, and this is even more prevalent with surviving records meant to convince an audience of anything in particular. When reading documents from the past, always be aware of what is being said, who is saying it, and the intention will become clear, if there is one."

"Isn't there always an intention, though? They have to have had a reason for writing things down, and if it were common knowledge, it would have seemed unnecessary."

"Well, yes, we can mostly assume a sort of agenda or narrative that a writer seeks to further by virtue of their message. This of course does not make whatever point the writer seeks to establish necessarily incorrect, but deserving of a careful eye."

"Right. What sorts of agendas do historians of today have?" Machin asked, staring straight ahead without having blinked. There was a lengthy pause before any response materialized.

"While I appreciate your concern, most of the work modern historians do simply does not relate to modern politics. The wars and peaceful conflicts discussed have been over a long time, and taking one side or the other would hardly change the result at this point. Historians largely believe that the truth has come out about the ancient world, and the truth will continue to come out about history's many periods, which will eventually include our own." Lonnie nodded to the logic of the argument, and genuinely appreciated the effort that went into it.

"I would have to disagree." Machin began respectfully. "Part of the reason we study history has to do with its relation to modern politics, even when it does not seem relevant. Constitutional issues today are usually judged with reference to the 1787 ratification, as well as the lengthy logical argument that went into the decisions made, detailed in the Federalist Papers as well as written records of debates that took place. That was relatively recent history, but older British and French Enlightenment philosophy went into the decision, so the history of Western Europe is inherently necessary to an understanding of the philosophy of America. More connections to earlier time periods can be drawn to avoid historical loose ends, but the point is that history is all connected, making all of it controversial and subject to agenda." The bell rang while he was speaking, though he would have liked to hear a response to what he had been arguing. _Ah, well, at least I can focus on school when I'm participating in a discussion._

He found times during the day to work on his homework and make incremental progress on his projects and papers. _To think I used to look at long projects and not want to do them until I had time to knock them out in one sitting._

Depositing his street clothes in the locker room as always, he put on his mask and false scar, setting out to fuel up the tank before going after Zsasz, or possibly the Mad Hatter. _One way or another, I'm going to have to go after both._ The prospect was nothing new to him, and hardly constituted a matter of concern. While Victor Zsasz was physically capable, more so than he was, he frequently relied on the element of surprise, making him easy enough to take out when he did not choose the time and place of battle, though to all normal, untrained people he would likely be more difficult to defeat.

He grappled to the top of a building as soon as he was finished refueling. Jervis would be a challenge, as he usually found some way of drugging him, Batman, or both of them with hallucinatory drugs, creating a potentially deadly trap, but the hallucinations were only as dangerous as Hatter's real life henchmen. A super-criminal like Orca or Bane would be exceedingly difficult, if not impossible to defeat while under the effects, but he simply never had that manner of help. Jervis lived in his own, fictional world and was largely considered laughable by other villains, having been defeated multiple times, especially easily when caught in a trap rather than by Batman caught in his own.

Neither of his currently loose foes worried Robin. What worried him was the fact that his eyes were still blurred, and it was even worse than before. Not twelve hours earlier he had been sure that the episodes had been the result of suggestion, he had thought he was poisoned and the antidote functioned as a placebo, which is to say, it had the function he assigned to it. He knew from chemistry that it had no curative properties, and it was decidedly unlike Cluemaster to simply poison him and then give him a false antidote, as killing him would hardly prove his superiority. _Unless- unless I simply serve no further purpose to him._ He had not considered it, but it was possible. Arthur knew his real rival, Batman, was dead- why would he bother to prove himself to Robin? He was far from above simple trickery. _He's in lockup at Blackgate. I can go there- maybe do something about Joker and Deadshot at the same time._

Gliding south, he made reasonable time even with latent injuries, staying high above street level in hopes of drawing Zsasz out, though the most he had seen thus far were trees with outstretched limbs, like dryads almost. _It can't be anything else. He hasn't killed anyone to my knowledge, but if he sees me as an unnecessary thorn in his side, it's at least conceivable. It also might have been his leverage for getting out of prison- no, he knows I can't swing that, even in good graces with the police._ As he landed on the roof of Blackgate, it occurred to him that he should visit Gordon in the hospital. _Barbara's probably seen him already, feeding him an alibi for her real activities in the guise of telling him about her day. Well, that's if he's awake. If he's asleep, it'll be all the easier for me._

Robin had known the secret entry points in Blackgate for a long time, ever since Batman had told him about Lockdown's efforts to close all of them. Finding the old central heating duct, he plunged straight down, slowing his descent towards its conclusion with his impugn wrists and heels. Opening a hot metal hatch with his staff, he rolled out onto the floor of the panopticon, careful to not make a sound. _Security cameras are only checked if something's reported. If all goes well here, nothing will be._

Approaching silently, he stuck the guard in front of the monitors with a sleeping dart from his boot. _He dozed off at work. Hard luck, really, he's going to catch hell from his superiors when they find out his head hitting the monitor deactivated the cameras in a few of the cells and hallways._ After locating his persons of interest, Robin set out, his mind still working furiously. _In a normal city, it would be absurd to see people in prisons this quickly. I suppose the only good thing about having notable criminals who break out all the time is that their trials move rather quickly, since the juries have no sympathy for monsters like Deadshot and just want to get out of there as soon as possible. Of course, it's the opposite with the mob families. Most of the time it doesn't even get to the juries, and they're thankful for it._

As he walked through the hallways, he heard a conspicuously loud cough from one of the inmates in the cell block. _It could be a signal- loud enough to hear, but not abnormal enough to prove- whenever Batman or myself shows up on this man's hall, he coughs and a few blocks down, the next man drops a metal cup on the ground._ The prisoner coughed again. _Okay, it's a signal, it's just one I'm supposed to notice- because it's directed at me._

"What's up, doll?" Robin asked him as soon as he reached the cell.

"Don't be cute." the man said, handing him a piece of paper.

"Right, that's your job." He responded as he walked away, reading. As perhaps he should have expected, it was a riddle. _The faithful dog howls and howls- something's amiss, but he doesn't know WHO is responsible!_ Crumpling the paper and jamming it into his belt, he wondered who the hell was dog-themed. _Does anyone even have dogs in Gotham? Even attempting it seems like an act of cruelty. Aren't these damn things supposed to rhyme?_ Robin briefly considered giving it more thought or at least asking Batgirl to reference the files, but he was having almost as hard of a time reading the riddle as he was puzzling it out. _There's something seriously wrong with my eyes._

Arthur was asleep when he found him.

"Wake up." The old adversary of Batman opened his eyes without otherwise moving.

"You continue to disappoint me, Grayson."

"I don't have anything to prove. You know why I'm here."

"Why exactly is that? You don't have to prove you're as good as Batman? You can't hit me in here, so that limits your 'advanced interrogation techniques' to intimidation, which I can't say you've mastered." He allowed Cluemaster to continue. "So you're not as good as Batman, and you're happy with that, fine, go on believing you're perfect just the way you are. The point of contention is much simpler. Criminals aren't afraid of you, the police and your idiot hero friends won't work with you- trying to put you in jail and replacing you with that Radiation Man? They're either trying to protect you like a child or contain you like a dangerously unstable little monster. Respect has to be earned, and you, the press, and everyone else can call me what you will for chasing it."

"You're saying you didn't poison me." Robin looked away slightly, causing Arthur to inch forward.

"No, genius, I didn't. It's practically a party trick. Unexpected things happen all the time, and I'm not bullheadedly arrogant enough- sorry, _too paranoid_ , to believe that all of these things are going to go my way. As a result, I prepare. When someone drops in uninvited, I poison him. He doesn't know where the antidote is, killing me won't help, all he can do is exactly what I ask. Of course, poisons in real life usually have averse effects and most antidotes are unreliable, so I substitute it with a placebo. The uninvited guest gets a fake antidote and a reminder of what an idiot he is if he ever figures it out, I get away with whatever I was doing. I've never told anyone about it, of course, I'd never be able to use the same trick on the same person again. I'm telling you because honestly I pity you. I wonder if your intellectual superior ever wondered if he'd adopted a defective boy." His arm darted into the cell between the bars, grabbing the orange shirt and jerking Cluemaster's entire body closer to the edge.

"I deactivated the cameras before I came here." Grayson began, grabbing him with his other hand and dragging him, using his position to press the inmate against the bars.

"What do you want, you fucking animal? I didn't-" He was interrupted as his feet were dragged out of the bars and his right knee was broken.

"You know a thing or two about poisons. I'm experiencing periodic vision loss."

"It's psychosomatic, reta-" Robin braced his other knee against the bar.

"I've known it was a fake antidote since I analyzed the composition. Something else is in my system. I hadn't noticed until now that I think about it, but I haven't been feeling much pain."

"Wait a minute, that actually sounds familiar."

"It should, it'll save your knee."

"No, I'm not lying. You've encountered an herbological psychoactive drug. It's not a poison, it's worse, especially since you didn't realize it."

"I'm listening." He needed to do just that, but Arthur seemed strangely interested, as if the matter constituted intellectual stimulation. _I guess he doesn't need a lot of motivation to answer questions._

"Have you been seeing things? You're having vision trouble because there's something overriding the way your brain works."

"I can't think of anything specific."

"Well, you've been seeing something without realizing it's a hallucination, surprise, surprise. Now get a doctor over here or I'll inform the others of weaknesses of yours."

"I have places to be." He responded simply, pressing a button on his wrist communicator. Activated inside a prison, the medical professionals who arrived would be the doctors and nurses who responded to everything. _I hadn't intended to call this much attention to my position, but I really don't know what I intended. I need to get to Joker._

Sprinting through the hallways, he sought out the maximum security area, where Joker was most likely contained. Passing cell blocks, it seemed like he was getting closer from the inmates. Black Mask asked him if he was having trouble, if he had imagined putting him in there would change anything, and Grayson could have sworn he was laughing under the mask. He came to a stop at Deadshot's cell.

"Joker's trying to kill you." He said before Deadshot could respond to his presence. "He's sworn that he'll get revenge on you and I don't know if there's anything I can do to stop it."


	15. Poison 5

Deadshot simply stared at him, and Robin simply stared back.

"I thought you were here for revenge." The assassin began. "Batman never took revenge, but you're a kid. I wouldn't put it past you to break every bone in my body just to ensure no one ever tried to get me out." Robin had not considered that as a way of keeping prisoners from escaping; he had never wanted to consider it.

"I don't kill." He started simply. "I don't take revenge. I don't let the Joker do what he wants when it's convenient for me." His words waited patiently in the air for a moment as Lawton considered them. He could hear a conversation going on behind him, though in hushed tones.

"Well, that's nice, but what are you going to do?"

"It would be simplest just to move you to Arkham. It's not fully repaired, but it's enough to hold you." It was something about North Refrigeration being acquired.

"I'm not insane-"

"Neither am I." He answered quickly. "It's not hard, I assure you. Get Strange to evaluate you and just disagree with any conclusions he makes about you."

"I'm a contract killer, Robin. My motives are simple."

"They're also monetary, and you're a Red. Looks like your principles are in contradiction." Deadshot's robotic eye focused on Grayson's own, his human eye looking down.

"I can't figure out yours any sooner than you'll figure out mine." The killer stated simply.

"You've only succeeded in doing what everyone else behind bars has attempted to do. From an actual moral view, you're no different." _-though it's something of which I have to remind myself._ "Every man has the right to a fair trial, and Batman died in the defense of that ideal."

"And now, you will as well." Robin's head whipped around to find the Joker behind him. "A pity, really, I was just starting to think you were like him. Fiddlesticks."

"How did you get out of your cell?" He asked quickly, stalling as his vision steadied itself.

"No four walls can contain me, bird brain." Joker responded, the cheap carnation on his suit seeming to extend its petals. "Oh, I'll give it to you. The guards know why I'm here. They washed their cute little hands of the whole mess, but made darn sure I found everything I needed or wanted in the hallway."

"I don't believe you. Why would they need Deadshot gone badly enough to release you?" Silently he reached for his grapnel gun. _There's no chance I can take with this maniac._

"They may be a little big for their britches, but I'm still in the prison, ain't I, boy?" He swung out with a knife, probably not expecting to hit anything. Robin discharged the grapnel gun into Joker's leg.

"That'll keep you from chasing anyone." A normal man might have screamed, but Joker laughed, swinging again, managing to cut him in the shoulder, causing him to leap back after punching him in the gut.

"Oh, you're starting to get a little-" Robin kicked him in the head while he was still doubled over. "Tightly wound, aren't you?" He heard various noises from behind him as his vision darkened. _Dammit not now, not now-_

"RICHARD GRAYSON!" It was Inspector Bard's voice. "Put your hands up, you are under arrest." He ordered in a calm voice that belied a deadly seriousness. "Witnesses saw the description of one 'Robin' in the area. We saw the security officer- put two and two together. We'll add attempted murder to your charges." His half-blind eyes flashed with rage. _There are a lot of things I've tolerated for a long time._

"Murder?!" _I've been a common criminal._ He ignored it as Joker scurried off behind him, giggling like a girl. In all probability, the police had seen that he had disabled the cameras on Joker and concluded he had released him to get him to kill Deadshot. "You killed Harvey Dent! You did your damnedest on Bane, and if I hadn't shown up, the same fate would have befallen Lynns." All around him officers had their weapons drawn.

"They weren't in cells, Grayson. This is the end of the line." _I've been a fugitive from justice._

"Fine, don't take it from me. Lawton will tell you how Joker got here- and how I did." _I've been declared insane._

"He can tell us that on the witness stand. You're coming with us." _And I've taken it. I've taken it without hesitation._

"Like hell I am." _But I've never been accused of murder._

Robin heaved himself upward as he cracked a smoke pellet, tossing an explosive straight up ahead of him with his free hand. _Batman was, and I know why._

Firing his grapple upward as the bullets rained into the cloud beneath him, the thermite blasted the vent cover above him open. _They needed someone to blame._

The hook embedded itself in the metal as the motor propelled him up out of the cloud, his position and path given away. _They needed someone to hate._

Zigzagging as he repelled up the wall faster than the motor retracted the cord, hollow-point rounds exploded with flashes of oddly dim light all around him. _They needed someone other than themselves._

As he reached the vent and forced himself farther and farther up into it, there was shouting beneath him and he knew they were radioing the helicopters. _He was their Dark Knight._

Robin felt new wounds in his body as he climbed, turning right, left, and right again, knowing there was no easy way to lose his pursuers.

 _But I'm not Batman._

He had at least two bullets in him, one in the upper arm, the other through his abdomen. _He took that on himself.  
_

Finding the third floor kitchen at last, he kicked open the grate and sank to the floor. _He protected me from that.  
_

Staggering around the room, he tossed a towel into a pot with water in it, heaving it onto the stove. "Treat for shock... keep the victim warm..." Grayson muttered to himself, remembering advice Bruce had given him years ago, climbing up onto the counter next to the heating water on the stove.

 _He didn't want me to be Batman._

"Staunch the bleeding..." He mumbled as he kept his injured arm raised above his head. There was not a lot he could do to raise his abdomen, but he did not think his organs had been punctured. His small intestine had been grazed in several places, and he would not be able to eat for days. Deciding not to extract the bullet from his arm, he removed his own shirt to dress the wound. "...boil to prevent infection..." Opening the drawer beneath him with a foot, he found an assortment of knives, however little he had expected them. "...need some damn salt...prisoners can't get in this room..." He concluded, getting off the counter slowly to open the stainless steel cabinets. "...can't lose any more...blood..." Anyone who had followed him up into the vent could have found him by the trail he was leaving, long and red and dripping down all the while, wasted on the impenetrable ground as though his blood longed to water fertile soil. _Damn, I'm really losing too much blood._ Finding a canister, he quickly salted himself, feeling the pain even through the odd mental haze he experienced. _What is it really accomplishing if I'm aware of it?_ Wrapping the thoroughly disinfected towel around his abdomen, he tied his shirt around his arm, knowing it would probably throw him off balance. _It'll kill me if I'm not careful. Most things will, really._

Hours later he was on his way out the civilian exit, having had to hop over a few barriers here and there, but really little else. Years ago the Joker had escaped by sliding down the mail chute and boxing himself up, waiting for days in perfect stillness without food or water, but Robin lacked the time. Morning would come, as ever, sooner than he liked it, and leaving by the tunnel that took civilians from the below ground parking garage to the visitor's center would have to do for him. _Police generally scan buildings and complexes based on where the person of interest is most likely to be. Nine times out of ten, it works, especially considering the target probably doesn't know where he's most likely to be. The average fleeing suspect hasn't been trained by Batman on how to evade police._

"Doing something unexpected requires little. Succeeding at it requires careful planning and knowledge, especially of the variety your pursuers don't have." Batman had told him one night as they followed a trail of bombings. "This is one of the principal reasons I do not believe the Joker is actually insane, in the sense that his actions are random, determined by a known condition, or tending to fall into patterns. He has an incredible intuition, awareness, and application of a wealth of knowledge. In addition, he's highly skilled in marksmanship, knife fighting, and improvised weaponry. A careless, stochastic general mannerism belies a competence that the foolish do not expect him to possess." He put a small amount of explosive residue into a plastic bag, which in turn he stored in his belt.

That itself was little enough to go on, in terms of advice, but Robin had long since learned the tricks of the trade, directly or indirectly. _Reverse psychology gambits rarely pay off._ A trick in the vein of setting off an alarm at the front door and walking out it as soon as they confirmed it was a distraction was an objectively bad trick, especially with police who by law behave in a procedural manner rather than going off random suspicions. _The air is better than the ground._ With any high profile chase, they had at least one helicopter, but the purpose of police aircraft was to get an angle on suspects that were escaping on the ground. Even if they spotted him in the air, they could momentarily mistake him for a bird, and all they would really do would be to announce his position. _You can hide, but you can't run._ This was perhaps the most important lesson Batman had impressed upon him. The reverse implied that all people of interest would eventually be found, which was patently untrue. Even outside of Gotham, police had a threshold for targets worth pursuing. This was not out of laziness or incompetence, but rather an effective use of resources. They would not give up on suspects that had momentarily disappeared, but within a range of hours, the officer in charge would call off the search. Law enforcement personnel made up a bureaucracy, but their actions were indirectly determined by the voters, who rarely can be content with the idea of a three day manhunt taking the place of usual duties and interfering in their lives.

Taking the slow glide once out of the prison, his suspicions that the officers would most likely have already been dispersed had been accurate. His lack of paralyzing pain worried him, but possibly constituted much of the reason he could focus on his escape. _I can't tell if it's dark or if it just looks dark because I can't fucking see._ His observation was well founded. Robin found it difficult to navigate with his peripheral vision, fighting to stay aloft despite the unbalance. Nearing the general area, he dropped down to street level, where he took the service tunnels, both to hide his approach to the garage and get a break from flying. The sewer was dark and dank as expected, a door to an electrical maintenance room hanging open. On his way under the block of buildings above him, he spotted an indistinguishable gray mass. Upon closer inspection it was a corpse. _Damn. Just like on the news days ago._

"I can't report it- it's too close to the base." He began, thinking aloud. "Not really worried about the legality either." Turning the body over, it was clear that much of the blood had been drained _,_ and his recent proximity to that reality did not escape him. "That's right, folks, I'm an outlaw for life." The bite marks were inconsistent with most animals. Whatever had done this was large, but ultimately mammalian, though he should have guessed from the fur rubbed off against the body. "The victim struggled with the killer for a few moments before dying. The killer was big, but not terribly strong." _There's an explanation for this... but I don't know what it is._ Robin struck his own head, as if he expected that would clear it. _Why can't I think of anything? Why do I have this ineffable haze in my mind?_ The body seem to be sprouting decomposers, though he could tell it had not been there long enough for such organisms to arrive - _wherever the hell they came from. At times like these, I resent the inaccuracy of the theory of spontaneous generation._ All at once the fungus appeared to spread like an algal bloom. _That's not... supposed to be there._

 _Fear gas._

 _It has to be fear gas. It wasn't Strange- it couldn't have been Scarecrow either. Who the hell else has access to fear gas? Why hasn't it left my system?_ From everything he knew about the substance, the effects were temporary, and the victim was aware he was being poisoned, at least initially. _Unless he did it when I was in the cell._ Everything clicked in his mind, pieces falling into place. _I don't know how he got into the ventilation system- well, he didn't have to do it himself, no one would have stopped the mayor as long as it seemed important. That's why my vision's coming and going- it's designed to scare me, subtly, over a long period of time._ His mind was racing as he made it to the garage, barely checking around him as he rolled under the door. Remembering an antidote to the gas in the supplies from the Batcave, he forced himself to slow down. _I still don't know why it's acting so slowly- it's never taken this long to leave the body before._ Avoiding further strain to his injuries by climbing up slowly, he decided a measure of the antidote would help before he fell asleep, which he was likely to do at any moment.

 _Dammit, I still have school tomorrow._ The idea seemed utterly ridiculous to him as he climbed into bed, having tested his symptoms against a half measure of the fear antidote, which was putting him through the expected side effects.

The skies were a burning white as he ran through a thick forest, forcing himself to leap over roots and duck the branches, leaping and rolling through the gap when he came to both at once. Grayson chased a shadow, staying within its protective darkness as ever it receded with the rising light, the light that burned the trees behind him, their roots holding the ground together. Ever farther and faster into the fleeting shadow he cast himself, seeing at last a great, gnarled tree ahead of him. Running and ducking into a slide, he hid under the tree, safe at last from revelation.

Waking up and getting out of bed slowly to reduce the strain, he decided he would have to see Barbara at school. _I have to apologize for what's happened to her father on my account. Then I have to apologize to him for whatever will happen to her._ Grabbing the Justice League communicator, he realized he'd slept in his costume, sans shirt, though his mask had come off in his sleep. _Must've been tossing and turning._ Making himself somewhat presentable, he activated the communicator after replacing the shirt with an actual bandage.

"Justice League, Black Canary speaking."

"What's with Hal in Gotham? Doesn't he have an entire sector to patrol?" The heroine audibly sighed before beginning her response.

"Batman made it clear to us on multiple occasions that we weren't the right fit for Gotham. To a degree, the rest of us agreed, though in the interest of honesty, I'll come out and say he was being paranoid." Robin's eyes narrowed, though doing so did not improve his vision. "Hey, kid, I'm telling you the truth here. You don't like us shittalking your father figure, we didn't like the implication that a twelve year old could do a better job than any of us at protecting Gotham."

"I'm not-"

"You were twelve at the time. He unwaveringly asserted that you were physically and mentally fit for the job, and with more training, you could do it yourself. Bluff called, but that's not the point. The point is, Gotham's general bad guys aren't super strong aliens, they're not from Greek myths, they're criminals. We felt the best approach available to us was the space cop."

"Gotham has problems Hal doesn't understand. His philosophy-"

"Deal with them yourself. He'll put the nutjobs in boxes."

"When he makes things worse than they are, I'll have you eat your words."

"No problem, _Dick_. I'm not wrong here, and unlike you, I don't keep score." Robin sighed, not really having an adequate response, at least not at the moment.

"Saying that is an act of keeping-"

"Oh, and Diana's coming your way, no idea why. Canary out." The communicator disconnected and he simply left for school. He had possessed a decent amount of respect for her for a long time, Batman had not neglected to mention her abilities and character before he met her. At the time, he had been able to get along with her easily, she seemed younger through her manner than she actually was. _I can imagine what I look like to her, though- she can probably even tell I've been injured._

 _There's nothing for it. The whole world thinks I'm insane._


	16. Poison 6

Machin kept his eyes open during his biology course, but failed to remember much of what was being discussed, apart from the natural progression of plant life during the early Cenozoic era.

"How do plants evolve?" Their instructor had asked.

"Uh, they die or don't die." A student responded. Of late it seemed more students cared about the class, but it was really too early to tell. He remembered Orenthal insisting that nothing in his life would ever relate to biology, having a specific hangup on the mitochondrion.

"Well, that's accurate, but would you say they have any role in that? ... Machin?"

"I suppose, in the sense that the successful genotypes are the ones that seem to be manipulating other organisms." He noticed his vision darken as he spoke.

"Elaborate."

"Fruiting trees produce fruit to incentivize herbivores to eat their seeds, some of which pass through the digestive track unharmed. The animal then buries its own waste to hide its scent, which completes the tree's reproductive strategy."

"Trees are lazy, lol." One of his classmates extended. _Not really. Nature favors an efficient caloric input and output, and plants reflect much of the ideals of the paradigm. In many ways, almost all of the successful and long lasting organisms are from the plant kingdom._

On that subject he knew his general method could stand some improvement. _I'm relying on my abilities and knowledge to keep me going longer than I really should. I physically can't take the strain, especially not after last night._ Previously his physical involvement had mostly not been an issue. He never enjoyed admitting it at the time, but years ago he did little himself, mostly watching and helping in ways that put him in minimal danger. Even during field training, he would later suspect that Batman had at no point allowed him to leave his sight or earshot, having plans ready to evacuate him if necessary. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that in order to be justifiably put in danger, he had to put himself in danger, and he would do so frequently by involving himself more than requested. In so doing, he did not merely absolve Batman of responsibility for him, but he developed a kinship in motivation, he found reason to repeatedly enter harm's way, to every night rush headlong into the mysteries and terrors of Gotham City, and in this pursuit he pushed himself ever harder, ever higher.

It was a lesson he would have to learn sooner or later.

Machin found Barbara eating lunch at the same place as always, though this time alone.

"Don't change your habits too much. It looks suspicious."

"What would you have me do? I never have anything to discuss with my friends anymore. You know what I do at night."

"Make something up. You're not going to like it." He said as he sat down across from her, taking care with the wounds he could not feel. He saw the expression change on her face.

"What is it? Broken bones?" _She probably knows about the injury Bane gave me. Her father would have told her._

"The cracks healed." Her head tilted. "I'll live."

"I have a hard time believing that. You two don't have a good record." Robin clenched his fist hard enough to make his blood vessels pop. "You act literally just like him when you get like this."

"When I do what?"

"When you deny that you have any problems, even when I can tell you do."

"I don't need to make others privy to my aches and pains. When something with which I have a problem becomes relevant, I'll mention it." _We need to get past this._ "Also, I'll thank you not to attribute Batman's death to not talking about issues he had, physical or mental." Gordon's daughter simply stared for a moment before moving on.

"What is it you wanted to discuss?"

"Training. The longest and most physically demanding part of it is hand-to-hand combat. You'll need someone better than I am, like Oliver or Diana."

"Diana, definitely."

"She's one of the best fighters on this planet or any other, but not a normal human. I'd suggest Shiva if she weren't evil. We also can't find Richard Dragon-"

"Robin, Diana found me. I was practicing out on a rooftop and she just showed up and suggested to give me some pointers."

"Oh, good. I'll leave it to you to decide how you want to do that." She nodded, probably already having worked it out.

"You know, I was honestly surprised you brought her up. I thought you of all people would hate her."

"Why?"

"Well, overall she has more skills and competencies than you."

"I'm aware of that. As a result, I don't trust her at all. She and Batman had some philosophical differences, but he had an acute understanding of her abilities and a great deal of respect for her resolve, honor, and heroism. If you're going to train under her, that's good. You'll learn more than you will from me. What you need to know right now is that she's not a normal human. She was either made from clay, or she's Zeus's daughter; it isn't clear. The point is-"

"If I try to do what she can, I hurt myself?"

"-the point is you should never aspire to be exactly like she is. Her fighting ability, philosophy- everything comes from her origin and apart from some 'learning about the real world' moments, she hasn't changed from the day she was born. She hasn't had to. With her powers, she's always one step ahead of the competition. Yes, here and there, someone's gotten the best of her, but she's never really had to rely on anyone else, admit anything, or really lost. Batman lost many times, to many different opponents, and for many different reasons. Each time he's had to learn, and each time he's become stronger. He's one of the only humans to ever pose a physical threat to Wonder Woman, Superman, and Flash." Robin watched her expression gradually shift as he spoke.

"I think I know why she wanted to train me." She said at last, wearing a face in a mixture of being vaguely upset and determined. "I saw the interview where she expressed interest. Did you?"

"No. I mostly don't watch the news." _It doesn't help that I can't see at the moment._

"Why not? You never know everything."

"I know not to trust what I see on television. Look into media companies, people who own them, what they run in different areas on the same day. It's a business and they tell people what they want to hear- at least badly enough to sit through the advertisements. If it's a regulated station, like the major one in England, you've got the fox watching the henhouse, or at least that's how Thomas Wayne would have put it."

"What do you trust?" Barbara asked, now somewhat exasperated.

"I trust your father. He earned it, and he's got a long way to go before he ruins that for himself." _The possibility that he tried to get me out doesn't hurt his case._ "I can't trust people I don't know, that's impossible by definition. I can have a functional relationship with people and organizations if I have enough information about them and can probably bring them down if necessary. Outside of that, I have to keep my guard up."

A short silence followed.

"I'll tell you what happens with Wonder Woman."

"Thanks."

After completing his homework and sleeping until dark, an odd idea came over him. Injured, he would do little good as Robin, but there was work to be done. _Hatter and Zsasz will come after me sooner or later, but neither of them are trackers. They can't find me if I'm not dressed the part- and with Joker out of the picture, at least momentarily, they've lost their momentum. I need to investigate the body in the sewers. Without the full use of my eyes, I'll need the optical scanner. I'll also have to resist the urge to go after criminals this evening.  
_

The garage was dark as he approached, exactly the way he had left it. It was hardly reasonable to expect anyone to take notice of it, like a monument it had simply become part of the scenery, like the nose it was always in peripheral vision, but seemed invisible until there was a reason to focus on it. And when there was, it was still almost impossible to see properly, a discomfort to behold. _I'm lucky Alfred was able to suggest the place. I'd forgotten about it myself._

As he found what he needed and left, he thought more on the faithful butler, selecting his clothes until he had begun to insist on doing it himself. Dressed as Lonnie Machin, his garb was a limited combination of baggy and otherwise 'class conscious' wear, shoved in a locker save what he happened to be wearing at the time. As a battlefield medic, it had ever been impossible to prevent him from treating even the smallest cut, and Robin knew Alfred would have been able to take care of bullet wounds, though it would have shown on his face, seeing him come in seriously injured for the first time.

 _I can't keep thinking of the past._

Machin reached the sewers with difficulty, his vision blurring and darkening. _Is this poison going to kill me?_ He knew it had nothing to do with Fear gas, beyond a shadow of a doubt. The antidote would have at least had some measurable effect, even if it was a new, modified form, since Strange knew nothing about the antidote existing. _He made it possible to vaccinate- and that means it's hardly perfect._

The body was mostly the same as he left it, though somewhat more decayed. Scanning it for any identifying features, he found the victim had a tattoo and an old skin graft, narrowing down the search significantly. The scanner was linked to the laptop in the office, which came to a swift conclusion. The face looked familiar, but the name was off. _Who the hell is Antonio Maroni- there was never a Maroni by that name._ Calmly and quietly leaving the sewers, he set out for Elliot Memorial. _I suppose it's possible he was attempting some bizarre variant of hiding in plain sight, but it's also possible he just liked how it rhymed with 'Tony'._

It occurred to him that he had been able to do little about the current mob war, what with Joker entering the fray, but it had been remarkably quiet on all fronts. _That means it's mostly shit I can't see. Best case scenario for Black Mask, they get an armistice and go back to business as usual. I doubt Falcone will agree to that though- she's got too much at stake._ From what he knew, Panessa was out, never having planned on his own capture, like Sionis, who had replaced himself with a more careful subordinate.

At the hospital he knew better than to ask where to find Gordon. Officers, especially high ranking ones, had enemies ask that question all the time. It wasn't just a matter of knowing where he was at any given time, knowing when he was alone, worse yet, when he was asleep, it was a matter of being able to deny any degree of culpability, even if caught. _People die in hospitals all the time. Simple errors kill untold amounts every year- swapping medication, mistaking an artery for a vein- in any other profession no one would care about that kind of mistake. Trouble is, doctors have money- doctors can be sued._

In Gordon's room there was a strange silence, a complete absence of activity, a world unto itself hidden within the swirling chaos that was Gotham City. He had found the place by stealing a medication deferral list, which he would simply leave in the room for it to be found again.

"Hi, Gordon." As Grayson should have expected, the man did not stir. "I guess I should thank you for taking my gear, keeping it in the trunk for me. I don't really have the evidence to suggest that meant you were going to help me escape, but that's what happened. I'm sorry we couldn't do anything for Officer Montoya, especially because I think you chose her to look out for me. She was a great officer- she never failed to have a degree of sympathy for the sick people we brought in, insisting they were treated well no matter what they did in their insanity. There are times I think that she was one of the first to believe in Batman. If Bard and the rest of the force manage to catch me before this is all over, I'll offer to dig her grave as community service. She had a great sense of justice, and for that very reason she put her life on the line, night after night- fighting the crime below and the corruption above." Robin paused to notice the television had been on, at low volume. "It would have been a terrible sin to keep her from her chosen work, even though not doing so led to her death." He had spoken with no particular intent, simply allowing whatever came to mind to manifest itself into words.

"We bring you now an important announcement from our distinguished mayor, Hamilton Hill." Robin had long since learned to read lips, though he knew not why he took the occasion to do so, whether to take in whatever inane drivel was being reported, or to simply take his mind off things.

"It is my great privilege to appoint an acting police commissioner, and my great joy to appoint one with such an admirable record." _Damn you._ "In the interest of public good, I have granted emergency provisions to Inspector Jason Bard of the GCPD, for him to faithfully execute the law to the extent of his ability." _You disappear, and Great White Shark replaces you again. He's got to have at least six of you- though I don't know how._ "Green Lantern, our resident defense against supercriminals has already done a vastly superior job of detaining and eliminating threats, bringing in a total of three of the class, as well as numerous less significant offenders." On the steps of City Hall he could make out the stern face of Hal Jordan before his vision went dark completely. He clicked up the volume, setting the remote back down on the bed with Gordon.

"Thank you, Mayor Hill. In my short time in Gotham City I have discovered a great character of the people- with a few notable exceptions. The law enforcement, while notably honorable in its commitment to doing justice by the book, has allowed a masked vigilante to commit crimes on a personal agenda- a clear case of irrational revenge, as our esteemed colleague has informed us." _Out of all the evil men Batman and I ever fought, you were the most powerful, Strange. I'm going to bring you to the ground._ "The idea of a masked hero has no place in the modern world, may all who associate with supercriminal Robin know this- you are defending a murderer. I have killed in my capacity, it is not a task I enjoy doing, it never will be, but any who would lead a known killer to the cell of a personal enemy to avoid staining his own hands is not simply a sick mind to be treated, but a cowardly villain who has for the final time characterized his tolerance for evil and unwillingness to take necessary steps against it to the point of insanity." Though he could not see, he heard the draining sound of the machine turning off. _Must be that Gordon's awake._

"My daughter came by an hour ago. Tried to get some sleep after."

"Sorry about that."

"I'll rest when I'm dead." There was a pause.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Aside from my debt to you and my lifelong friend?" He coughed. "Well, it's simple, really. I serve the law. The supreme law of the land is the Constitution. Let's say I could read the writing on the wall. They never wanted to give you a fair trial. The real purpose of racking up crimes and ailments against you was to make sure no one missed you when you died, and discredit me for helping Batman."

"Tally Man never worked for Joker."

"He worked for an unknown 'benefactor'- I looked into it. It's the Court of Owls. It has to be."

"They started the gang war. That's why we never figured out where it began." He stared off into space as though with eyes to see.

"I need you to leave the evidence with me. I have a secure container- prevent all contamination." Taking the plant from where it had been safe in his boot under his civilian clothes, he handed it to Gordon, reaching out in the dark. "Thank you. It's in remarkably good condition."

As he stood to leave, hoping his vision would return for mere moments allowing him to find his way back, he turned with a final question. "Did Barbara say anything when she was here?"

"She admitted she knows you- as your disguise, at least. Lonnie Machin. Interesting choice. Told me you don't care to watch the news."

"People will find something else to pretend to care about next week- I haven't heard anything about beating up Pyg's hostages in days." The older man chuckled from behind him.

"I suppose so. She says you're starting to sound like a goth. Do you have any idea what a goth is?"

"They were just the hippies who lost all their hope."

"You're not a hippie, though, are you?"

"No." He answered simply, knowing where the next question was going.

"But you never lost your hope, did you?"

"Not on your life."


	17. Poison 7

_I have to do something about Green Lantern._

Robin kept himself from wincing at intermittent pains from his wounds- a feeling he had not felt in days. It would be highly unusual to start hurting in pottery class; he highly doubted he was of the caliber of artist to suffer for his work.

 _He hasn't done anything disastrous yet, but it's only a matter of time._

Taking care to keep his projects to a specific theme, he had made a diamondback rattlesnake, a Guy Fawkes mask, a Doomsday clock, and several symbols. His teacher had hesitantly credited him for accuracy, but denied his request to 'expand his horizons' starting with guns, time bombs, and guillotines.

 _The League chose him for his skills- well, his general purview._

At present he worked on a flag without symbol, intended to be red. He doubted he could paint it any time soon, but he had given his classmates enough reason to call him Robespierre- or at least the ones who knew the historical figure. He counted himself fortunate that impeccable sight was not required to complete his projects.

 _That's not the issue- the reason he's going to screw things up is because of his basic philosophy._

Machin finished his project early as always, despite the occasional insistence by his instructor to develop his inspiration and continue, walking out and finding Orenthal.

"Hey, what's up?" He asked, eyes dark again.

"We're just going out for burgers. Wanna come?"

"Sure, why not?" _I need time to think- and heal. I'm also not going to do a lot of good in this condition._ Robin had never entirely relied on his sight, he had trained his hearing as much as he possibly could, but even performing basic tasks was difficult at best. _Before long someone will notice- I'll probably look drunk at least._

"Oh, great, I'd only asked being polite and all. Meet us at that place I mentioned in Port Adams." Machin knew where to find the place. He supposed that it was perfectly reasonable not to expect him to be able to make it, since he had previously always had work. _Now the hard part. I just have to find the place without being able to see._

"I'll follow you there when you leave. I don't have anything to do for a bit. Probably get some sleep after doing homework." Orenthal probably nodded, since when he raised his own fist he felt a simple tap on the knuckles.

"See you."

During the passing hours, Robin's mind was occupied at least partially with the formation of a new plan. _I have to assume I'm not dying. If I am, there's nothing I know to do about it- except take Strange hostage and force him to cure me- even if he's not responsible he has to know how- the trouble is I really can't ensure he'll do a remotely good job. Even if I had Gordon watching him with a gun, all he would need to do is claim that there was a mistake. What I need to work on is the plan. I know where most of my enemies are- the doctor, the mayor, the police officer- it's no surprise I'm really starting to look like 'the bad guy' to the average person._

Grayson had learned long ago that all power could be abused in one way or another. There were no evil positions, machines, or computer programs, and trying to separate tools of power from evil people relied on subjective judgement and was ultimately a stupid endeavor. He remembered a time he and Batman were tracking down a weapons shipment the Penguin had arranged. Essentially, the guns and bombs were Russian in origin, though intel suggested they had come through three African countries to lose pursuers. He remembered speculating that Cobblepot was again trying to get a seat at the table.

"He's only proved that he's an errand boy." Batman responded, whispering as they waited in a floor grate for the errand boys of the aforementioned to walk by. "If the mobs really wanted to, they could have arranged the whole thing themselves, but they don't have the time." Robin heard the sound of a cigarette being crushed on the ground. "Black Mask spends most of his day talking to important people in the city- and foreign influences. Deacon Blackfyre meditates around ten hours a day, planning, presumably. The Riddler designs, drafting blueprints and testing based on principles of engineering." He kept himself from leaping out as he listened for the sound of boots. "Consider such men to be brains. The body is made of men like these." Deftly leading Robin out without making a sound, they seized their respective targets, kicked the legs out at the knees, and dragged them under the grates where they held both in sleeper holds. "The Penguin resembles a weapon- reliable, useful- but lacking particular agency in the grand scheme." The men were unconscious in moments, though Batman had the technique to a point where he was able to do it more quickly.

"They say he's trying to cause chaos in the city, putting weapons in the hands of every criminal." He offered as they dragged the silent bodies from visibility.

"That's an optimistic view of his plans, or perhaps a deliberate cover for a more sinister reality." Robin's stomach contracted at the prospect.

"What's worse than that?"

"The only thing worse than the mobs having the weapons they desire is men like Carmine Falcone and Cobblepot being their _sole proprietors_. They've been aware for a long time that the people of Gotham outnumber them hundreds to one." They surfaced from the grate, looking for the desktop in the room with the information. "If armed people watched out for each other- normal operations wouldn't have a chance of succeeding, especially with the way mobs distinguish themselves." Robin found the computer and plugged in with his solid state drive, though there was nothing there about the hostage, Mrs. Fries.

"The only thing worse than total chaos is total order."

Arriving at the street entrance to Gotham Heights, he caught up to Orenthal easily enough. Vision was intermittent and murky at best, but he would take what he could get. _You never know how valuable it is to distinguish shapes around you until you can't do anything else, I suppose._

"And here I almost thought you weren't coming."

"I have a hard time seeing in the dark- colorblind."

"Really? What color is that?" Orenthal asked, pointing at a sign as they walked together.

"Well, I could say it's red because I happen to know that, but the truth is I can't really distinguish red from orange or brown. I usually figure out what color a fabric or paint is by the printed name of the color, though it's usually more difficult than I'd hope." His friend laughed.

"How do girls even know what all those colors are? I mean a few of 'em make enough sense but how am I supposed to know what color 'robin red' is if I've never seen a robin? Do they look it up to stay on top of things?"

"I assume so. You need to get out of the city sometime."

"Yeah, sure, like you can see all the colors out there." They neared their destination. "Sorry." Orenthal muttered.

"I've had worse." Arriving, Machin was greeted by a mixture of voices and learned quickly that he and his friend had been late, there were girls in the establishment, they had already ordered for everyone, and more of them than he would have thought recognized him.

"Yeah, we know you, you're like the smartest kid in school." One explained as he made his best effort to turn his head at the sounds of voices. _Well, they're not seven. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that they've learned to respect intelligence._

"Thanks." He responded, meaning it. _Usually poor students come up with explanations as to why they do badly and others do well. The smart kids are emotionless, not creative, generally favored, and try-hards wasting their lives. The school system is fucked, the teachers and administrators don't care about their specific talents of tagging monuments and getting pregnant._ They filed into the joint, taking up what Robin estimated to be forty percent of the room, based off the sound reverberating off the walls. _Some people never grow out of this way of explaining things. I suppose I wasn't giving my classmates that much credit, assuming they were the same._

He listened intently to the conversation, responding here and there, surprised they were discussing something of consequence- Inspector Bard's promotion to acting commissioner, having finished with the Chinese conglomerate and Gotham businesses.

"Looking at it, it makes sense, I guess. He's got the experience. He knows what he's doing. Gordon's supposed to be out for a while-" They paused for a moment as the food arrived.

"He'll get better. You can't kill Gordon."

"They killed Batman."

"That was Deadshot." Machin interjected. "He's an assassin. If anyone could have killed Batman, he's the man. Gordon was hit by a truck." The relative momentary silence of the group seemed to signal agreement.

"Hey, Lon... why do you know that?" One of the guys asked. Behind him he could detect the sound of footsteps, which he guessed belonged to a server.

"Deadshot's not shy about it. When prosecutors call him to the stand he sees it as a chance to advertise his services." The explanation received a chuckle. _I wasn't joking._

"There's... someone behind you." Orenthal said at length. Stock still, Robin denied his instinct to turn. _From his tone this isn't good. Whoever it is must have heard my voice. I haven't been doing that good a job disguising it._ "Hey, didn't we see you two earlier?" _That explains it. It's someone recognizable- and two of them at that._

"How about we take this outside-" he began, trying to get them away from the others.

"Hey, if you got shit with our boy-" Grayson grabbed a knife instinctively as it flew through the air, turning hard in his seat to kick off, unable to judge the distance. Landing just in front of his assailants, he cut an arm that swung toward him. _Zsasz- he or Jervis saw me on the street- they're still working together._ From his own breathing he could tell Hatter was gleefully spraying his vision inducing drug, but Robin doubted it would induce visions for him. Kicking four times in his direction, he caught Zsasz twice, but did little actual damage. _I'd be happy to accept help from anyone in this room- but if they breathe the gas they might attack me- the exact effects are uncertain._ His hearing was almost useless to him as he took in so much sound, the clattering of dropped trays, shouting, even the audible inanity of people who couldn't be bothered to react. Mostly he relied on his sense of positioning and proprioception. _There are more than five senses- the number is disputed, but there are actually between nine and twenty one- counting all the internal senses._ Taking an unexpected blow to the arm, his entire body lit up with pain and he screamed as he struck his assailant in the neck, sticking the knife in his gut. From behind him Jervis was trying to grab him and he reacted by leaping on top of Zsasz, straining his injuries as he brought him to the ground.

"Where are they?!" Robin screamed, eyes closed as he kept pressure on the killer's neck.

"Lon... they're down..." Orenthal responded. _The other guys must have grabbed Hatter when he was turned around._

"Don't breathe the gas! I'm seeing things!" He could at last feel Zsasz go unconscious.

"Lon, you fight like a motherfucker. Why were-" one of the guys started.

"These men are insane. I don't know why they decided to attack us." He explained, trying to recover.

"Are you-"

"I'll live. I'm seeing things, but I'll live. Call the cops." _I really couldn't do it myself, even if I wanted them to know I have a wrist communicator. I need to get out of here._ "I need to go outside a bit."

"No, really, you look fucked-"

"I know. I need to get some air- it has to leave my system." He argued, trying to remember where the entrance was.

"Is he dead?"

"I'm not sure." _No, but when the cops get here he'll wish he was. Well, he might, if he were sane._ He bent over and motioned to where Orenthal was to bring him to his side. "Take me outside. I can't open my eyes."

"Dude, you left some details out." _I have to change the subject._

"Did you leave any of the Mad Hatter's teeth in? It seemed like no one was in a hurry to help." Machin responded as his friend led him outside, where he took an exaggerated breath of air.

"Lon- what the fuck, no one fights those crazy motherfuckers except another crazy motherfucker. That's how you die."

"And that's how nothing ever changes in this town." _Anarky persona, Anarky persona-_ "How long has the Joker been around- I don't remember a time he wasn't. He's just a fixture of the city- and people accept him as part of the reality. The cops, City Hall, the prison guards- they're corrupt. The people won't fight unless they believe they have a chance." He paused, taking another exaggerated deep breath. "They'll never believe that until they see someone fight."

"Lon, are you Anarky?"

"No." He answered, making it less than clear he was telling the truth. "If I were Anarky, everyone I know would be in danger- all the time. I'd be attacked at school, at home, I'd never have a chance to live my life." _He won't ask again._

They took a long break outside, watching and listening to the cars go by the establishment. The rest of the group most likely left individually, though he was uncertain.

"I won't tell anyone." Orenthal offered at last. "Of course, there's nothing to tell."

"Of course there isn't. I made a metric ton of mistakes a few years ago, who hasn't."

"I should've known you were different. There was no way-"

"Something else wrong with this city- is how people label everyone different as insane, corrupt, or a freak. Normal people don't do that shit, normal people live quietly with their heads down. What if deep down, Mister Freeze is a normal man? What if there's nothing that special about him except not being able to live in normal temperatures? What if anyone can achieve that level of scientific accomplishment? What if anyone can hurt people, destroy their lives- all to save a soulmate, trapped in frozen stasis?" He stood, deciding to get ahead on his work. _I need to heal, and I need to plan. I'm not going to be able to fight again without tearing my wounds open._

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about all that. We probably should have helped you."

"I'm sorry I keep getting pissed about everything. I just am pissed. It's starting to seem like my natural state." They laughed a moment, uncertain. "I think I can get back. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Aight. See you later." Finding his way back was almost second nature, though doing it on the ground presented a unique challenge. He had his directional bearings from the trip over, so getting to the general area of the garage would be possible, at the very least. _I have about half the plan worked out at the moment. Given the rest of tonight, I can easily finish it, and probably account for eventualities._ It occurred to him not for the first time that he had been nearly killed by two psychopaths with absolutely no plan. _That's their thing, though. It mostly puts them in prison. They probably just attacked me thinking they had no chance of losing._

The subject of coming up with plans and contingencies had been one he frequently discussed with Batman. In one such instance, they were tracking down Great White Shark.

"Why does Roman Sionis control the entire crime syndicate? He's not even from one of the main families." Robin had asked.

"The Falcone family works in the same manner as a feudal system, with the royal family occasionally contracting with outsiders. It's based on loyalty and familial honor. It has notable weaknesses- the reliance on family members, even unfit leaders; the inefficiency incurred by going to unreasonable lengths for family. Most of the syndicated crime works the same way. The Riddler runs a more poorly conceived operation, in which only he knows anything about the plans at work."

"Black Mask is different?"

"Black Mask is a businessman. He treats his equals with the respect they earn, and earns their respect. Great White Shark has never once tried to overthrow him because he does not need or want to, he knows his superior is effective and highly intelligent. Of course, he keeps men he does not respect in the dark, and in a drug addled state, if at all possible, but even without that he would be able to command their respect by consistently turning profits with relative impunity."

"He took over the syndicated crime by promising profits to all the families who helped him." Batman simply nodded in response.

"When Sionis makes a promise, he delivers." He reminded Robin. "Essentially, he succeeded because of his reputation, which he built himself. Powerful families build reputations over generations, and make plans based on authority. Businessmen make plans by committee, allowing anyone with an idea to voice it and be heard, in the interest of an effective, original plan. He doesn't do this to be fair, he does it to be effective- every facet of his operation is geared towards efficiency."

Reaching the garage at last, Grayson's mind returned to the present.

 _To think I spent all that time making the first half of the plan._


	18. Poison 8

When his eyes opened in the morning he quickly forgot his dreams. _They're not completely functional- but they'll do the trick. Either the poison is passing through my system or something that happened recently is countering my symptoms._ As he got up and readied himself, gliding to school this time, he decided it was doubtful Hatter's gas had any positive effects. _At least I know more about how it works. It plants visions in your mind, but not directly- they're based on what you can see._ Mentally shaking himself, he recounted the effort it had taken to fight for his life the previous night. Even factoring that he only really had to fight Zsasz, as Jervis was beaten senseless soon enough, all he really had going for him was their own overconfidence.

Gliding through the air, he changed tracks. _What I need to think about now is what to do now that I've been seen fighting. The guys are probably going to keep quiet, Orenthal's friends with all of them, and he's going to tell them whatever he needs to. I'd be surprised if he hasn't already. My enemies are the matter of concern. They probably won't testify in court, since both are considered insane and their words are unreliable. Sooner or later, though, the officers will get it out of them. Those two don't just get beaten up for no reason- not in the same place at the same time, it had to be intentional. It had to be Robin._

Nearing the school, he noticed officers posted outside. The traffic was backed up enough that he guessed they had come on foot. _That's going to throw my plans for a loop._ He landed in the usual place, but had to stop and think before changing. _If I don't have my costume underneath my clothes, it won't prove I'm not Robin, it definitely won't prove I'm not Anarky, but it will impede my ability to escape if necessary. I can't just start acting differently either- I have to have faith in the persona I've created._

His first class was Geometry, which relieved him, as it usually took his mind off things. Machin walked into the room and detected the smell of smoke. _Figures that fucker catches one every day first thing in the morning._ He sat and opened his things, not reacting. It was his personal view that though smoking was deleterious to the health, it was no one's responsibility or power to prevent people from doing it. _People are responsible for their own health, but it's more than just that. If it were justifiable to control what people were doing to their bodies, it would be justifiable to control what they are doing to their minds, as those are more important. In addition to an FDA deciding what was healthy or unhealthy to consume, we'd have the FCC blocking pages on the internet like we're all in middle school._

"If no one knows the answer to this, that's fine- but who knows who first measured the planet?" Machin raised his hand, remembering some detail about it.

"Eratosthenes."

"Yes, that's correct. What had to be discovered first?" Another student offered to respond. "Yeah, you."

"He had to know the world was round."

"That's correct. Earlier people had no idea how large the world was because they didn't know what shape it was and they never traveled very far. Eratosthenes, however, figured out because it was round, he could do it and not have to travel all the way around it. Does anyone know how?"

"He used the angle measurements of shadows in different places on the same day."

"That's right. The sun's rays at any point on the earth at high noon are parallel, and he found that in one city the sun was directly overhead, and in another the sun was off by seven degrees. What does that mean?"

"The intersection of those two points was a seven degree angle at the center of the earth." Machin answered, interjecting.

"How do you calculate the circumference from there?"

"Uhh... you find out the distance between those two points?" The instructor motioned for the student to continue. "Then multiply that by 7 out of 360?"

"Good. Your performance has noticeably improved." It was perhaps a confidentiality issue that a teacher would disclose that information, but as far as Machin understood it, the students knew where others stood, for the most part.

Class let out with a reasonable amount of time, and it occurred to him that it was Thursday. _I'll have more time over the weekend. That's when I have to-_ His designs were interrupted by a police officer in the hallway.

"You're supposed to be in juvenile detention." _They think I'm Anarky. Thank God._

"Why? I haven't done anything illegal."

"Is your name Lonnie Machin?"

"Am I being detained?" Robin was perfectly aware of his disrespect, but deviating from the Anarky persona was far riskier.

"Yes, you are being detained. A week ago, we lost track of supercriminal Anarky. Hours later, one 'Lonnie Machin' tries to reenter civilian life to find there's another one around, it sets off an alert, he matches the description of Anarky, we connect the dots. Now that he's been outed and jailed again, he's told us that he's the real Lonnie. You're under arrest for fraud. If we find anything else you've done, we'll tack that on." _Well, that was unexpected._

"Are you saying it's impossible there are two people with the same name?"

"No. We're saying it's impossible that someone has all the information of the real one without being the real one."

"I am the real Lonnie Machin. Why do you think he's the real one?" He paused, looking around as if he cared whether or not people were staring. "There's a simple explanation for this. Anarky tries to go undercover as someone his age. He's a smart guy, he picks a name without any other names next to it- no parents. Now that he's in jail, he's trying to get some petty revenge against me." The cop stood there a moment, considering it.

"You understand, though, why we have to bring you in for questioning."

"Why? You have all my information. Birth certificate, street address, several permits- all of it has my name and face on it. The way I see it, this Anarky fellow made a baseless claim. Don't you guys get those all the time?"

"The claim itself, yes, is starting to look flimsy, but we have other information connecting you to a possible alias." _That's what I feared, yes._

"What?"

"The opinions you've expressed-"

"Using my views as evidence against me is political persecution. It's akin to accusing a Muslim of a terrorist attack because you knew the perpetrator was of the same religion. This is an affront to freedom of thought." Though his vision failed him, he knew people around them had stopped and were staring. _Perhaps there's some truth to the idea that you can feel stares. I don't believe it, but at least it means the strategy is working._

"That's not all what I was saying. We have an eyewitness report of you recognizing and physically engaging both Victor Zsasz and Jervis Tetch."

"They attacked me."

"They did, and you fled the scene."

"I asked someone to contact the authorities and left. I didn't have any further part in it, and I had homework to do." _Well, that's not the first lie I told._

"You're supposed to wait for us to arrive."

"I didn't have eight hours. No one in Gotham waits for the police to arrive, if they call them at all." _This is not actually the fault of the police, but it's accurate enough._ Students were now surrounding both him and the police officer, as if in some cinematic schoolyard fight.

"Yeah, you're coming with us."

"Why? Do you want the judges to look unfavorably on the department?"

"The judge should not have a problem with you, if you are as innocent as you claim."

"Exactly. What kind of people do you think the judges want you to bring in, though?" He asked. _I highly doubt he arrested me before being certain that he needed to question me. It's not his job to judge guilt or innocence. If this works, though, I can convince him to leave me alone- at least for now._ "I mean, really, I suppose none of us would go to jail if we were brought in." he began, looking around at the confused faces. _Thank you, half blindness._ "That, however, would only clog up the court system and waste resources."

"Yeah." One student offered.

"Furthermore, suspects should really only be arrested if there's a decent amount of evidence against them. I doubt anyone here thinks I committed fraud."

"Of course he didn't. He's not Anarky either." _Hahaahahahhaahha deny deny deny, that's right kids. The cops totally can't look into what you did if they can't look into what I did._

"See, that's another thing. If I were Anarky, I wouldn't be committing fraud. Of course, I'm not Anarky, there's only one of him and he's in prison. I'm not even sure why I'm being arrested. Isn't that one of my rights?" The officer stared at him, less visibly upset than he could have been. At long last, after most of the other students at last left, he said the department had possibly made a mistake, and he would need more information before proceeding. As it stood, there was not enough information to justify an arrest, though he was thoroughly warned about suspicious behavior. Visibly acknowledging his discretion, Machin nodded to the officer and left for his succeeding classes. _That went about a thousand times better than it could have. Of course, I didn't entirely get lucky here. When hacking myself into Anarky's identity, I put it through the most rigorous examination I could. I even edited a younger version of my own appearance into a newspaper clipping featuring Lonnie Machin as a young boy._

It was at no point any less than entirely clear to him how unsettling and likely enraging experience this was for supercriminal Anarky, probably more so as Robin expected him to continue searching for evidence that he existed, things he thought he knew of himself uniquely, but thanks to Batman's extensive data collection, it had taken only a few hours to find the actual archived locations of Lonnie's information, edit it, and replace the data suggesting edits had taken place. _In the field of computing, there's no such thing as deletion, at least in the sense that we understand it. What you have to keep in mind is that the information is still stored in binary, even if connections to it have been severed, hidden from the graphical user interface. To truly get rid of data, you have to replace it with something else. Fortunately, that was exactly what I needed to do._

Batman had never once failed to impress upon him the power of computing and the value of the skills revolving around it. "My use of technology has less to do with counteracting the efforts of my enemies and more to do with supplementing our own. The majority of them fear decryption, electronic investigation. They stay away from computers rightly- it's one of the easiest ways the police can track you if you don't know what you're doing. Edward Nigma knows what he's doing, at least well enough to not get caught. He avoids direct confrontation because he knows I can decrypt his data, and as a result mostly goes after other targets." Batman had risen from his computer, remotely activating the Batmobile. "Ultimately, computing is a powerful tool of information management and manipulation. In the field, its efficiency is unrivaled, and even now scientists find new uses for computation."

When night fell Robin had come out once more from the shadows, crouching alone atop the ledge of a building near the school. He noticed he had left space beside him, on the corner, and resisted making an expression. _Old habits die hard._ Gliding across town, he mentally assessed Gotham and its current situation. _Bard's not a problem, he's a symptom. Only with Gordon recovering and Hill being some sort of marionette of Great White Shark was he even promoted to acting commissioner. The trouble is, I can't make Gordon heal any faster and there's nothing I can really do about the mayor. I can't prove he's not the real one- I doubt he's even wearing a mask I can rip off as a public spectacle. If I go after the Shark, he loses his orders, unless he or Black Mask can communicate from prison._ Taking a turn and bringing his glide to a halt, he found the place he had been seeking.

"Warren White's apartment." He said aloud, already having scanned the area. _No one knows he lives here. Batman never used the location against him._ Opening the door silently, Robin crept into the stillness of the room, where only a music box could be heard playing, its soft tune repeating and repeating. _Perfect._ Taking position at an unmanned computer, it unnerved him how the Shark seemed entirely unconcerned who had access to his data. _Either he's extremely confidant, or there's nothing of interest here._ Opening a file labeled 'Standings', it seemed his first guess had the right of it.

The document was a jumble of names, pictures, some of them overlaid to where the ones beneath were hardly visible. In the center there was a single word, 'me', with an arrow leading to it from Roman Sionis and a picture of him. Leading from his position, White had arrows going to Killer Croc, Cluemaster, and Hush, but all of them had three vertical lines through them. _I guess that means they're imprisoned._ It occurred to him that except for the arrow leading to a picture of Hamilton Hill, sans name, he was out of usable allies, which was probably why he had been especially quiet thus far. _That won't stop him from recruiting more- we don't know how many escaped from Arkham and even without that he's still got the fear-crazy grunts._ A picture of Sofia Falcone led to multiple names, but surprisingly not the Penguin. _Does he not know?_ Instead it seemed she had the Riddler, as he knew- and Poison Ivy. Instantly his eyes widened and he stood, taking out his staff and looking quickly back and forth for anyone around him.

 _This explains everything._

In the past few days he had not once attempted to go after anyone with allegiance to the Falcone family- looking back on his hallucinations, or at least what he thought were hallucinations, the majority of them seemed vaguely plant themed. _Arthur was right- the poison was an herbological neurotoxin- it blinded me because it was changing the way my mind worked- the first thing I noticed was this ambiguous mental haze, keeping me from thinking straight- I thought it was exhaustion, and I might still have been right- it also caused me to forget the flower I had on me._ Robin knew from experience with parasites that one of the first priorities is to prevent the host from realizing the parasite exists. Ticks used a simple numbing agent- other organisms had more elaborate tricks. _I hadn't expected Ivy to disguise herself- she's never done it before, and if she can make herself look like a normal human, she's more powerful than she's ever been._

"-such a God damned idiot-" he muttered to himself as he latched the door. _I can't believe I fell for that._ Containing his own anger, he returned to the screen. _I guess her tricks work better on grown men than they do on boys- but they probably work even better on teenagers like myself._ Bruce had told him about Poison Ivy before he told him about sex, but the order of events was probably due to necessity. He had been around ten the first time they needed to take her down. The most recent time he might have been more receptive to the pheromones she had been putting out, but he and Batman were sufficiently focused to avoid succumbing to her influence. After the encounter, Robin was warned in no uncertain terms that the plant woman was one of the most dangerous enemies they had, as she possessed the unique ability to convince either of them she was not an enemy. _Batman was always able to resist it._

Doing his best to focus on the task at hand, he found that Strange was not connected to Black Mask, which irked him, as he had specifically said he would work for Sionis. Instead, his arrow was leading from a box labeled 'other', which lead to Cobblepot, a black box, and Deadshot. _Great White doesn't know everything. I wouldn't really expect him to, considering his information most likely comes from his and Black Mask's men._ In a box labeled 'variables', he found the Joker, Lynns, and a few others, including Deacon Blackfire, who had a question mark over his picture, much like Bane. The psychopaths and other gangs seemed to be ranked on a threat matrix, the most dangerous being at the top of the page, near where he had put Batman, whose symbol had an x over it. Much further down the page, but not so low as others, Robin found his own symbol, a yellow R on a black field. _Bad news- White isn't underestimating me. This is going to make tomorrow all the more interesting._


	19. Flight of the Robin

Robin remembered his actions before leaving White's dwelling, but his way to school was no time to go over them. _As little as I like it, I can't pick and choose when to care about my education. There's always something I could be doing in Gotham, and if I'm ever financially independent as Bruce was, I'll be able to dedicate more time to it, but before then I always have to decide between going to school and throwing lunatics like Elliot in prison. If I can excuse dropping my studies whenever there's a crime wave, I'll probably graduate at 50._

Landing as ever, he changed his route into the building before throwing on his disguise and putting his mask in his jacket, knowing he would need it. His first class would be a study hall, which he would need to gather his thoughts. He knew of several villains that had escaped from Arkham without being noticed- and could only imagine what they had been doing. _There's only one reason they've been quiet this whole time- and it's because they've been up to something. Something they started planning in Arkham, between bouts of outright torture. There, the leader would probably have been one of the smart ones like Judge- assuming one of the sane ones kept him in line. Could have been Knife or Gearhead- it's a damn wonder, but he's one of the stabler ones. I suppose there's always Deathstroke.  
_

As he finished his homework in the study hall, it occurred to him that the escaped villains could be trying to restart the Secret Society, or something similar. _They don't really have a unifying thread, but that never stopped them before. Well, in those days it was 'kill Batman', but I doubt that's all that each of them wanted to accomplish._ It had been a common misconception, mostly outside of Gotham, that it was impossible to kill Batman, though under any analysis of his and Robin's adversaries, neither of them had long, statistically. Many of their enemies were faster, deadlier, and it was not unreasonable to suggest some of them were smarter- neither he nor Batman ever figured out how Bouncer's powers worked, nor had they discovered how Poison Ivy had managed to accidentally transfigure herself into a plant-woman. Supercriminals were not the only ones to display an inordinate amount of confidence against Batman despite his record, even minor henchmen and street criminals would take him on if they believed they had him off guard. Every time he lost a battle, the city was reminded he was only a man, and anew the villainy of Gotham and the world beyond would seek him out and disregard his presence in their maligned dealings. _Of course, that's only because he never cared what they thought about him._

Robin openly disrespected any self-proclaimed hero who kept track of his local popularity, even thinking about what their fellow citizens opined of Batman sickened him. The general cowardly defeatism the city wore like a badge spoke volumes, and the views expressed on television rarely deviated from that norm. Grayson doubted Bruce would have become any more the hero in his passing, in all probability the defeatism would now have a distinctly smug taste to it, a satisfaction derived from his seemingly failed attempt to transcend Gotham.

Class ended about the same time he had concluded his planning, but as always he knew there would be things that had not occurred to him.

 _I don't know if it's Strange or Black Mask handling the mayor- but they don't have anyone who can fly, or even anyone who can shoot from long range. Without Tally Man and Deadshot, they can't hit me if I'm at a glide, but they can see me if I'm low enough. I'll need to descend on the City Hall building from above._

His thoughts were interrupted by abruptly running into one of the guys who had been with them when they went out.

"Sorry." The young man said nothing. _My eyes are a little better now than at that point, but I still don't know who he is._

In his succeeding class he found a note had been stuck to his back, but fortunately for his classmates, it did not invite them to attack him in any way. Instead, it read 'creepy motherfucker looking in through the window that night/don't think you saw him/long white wig-couldn't see his face/think you'd have noticed him.' Staring at the note and reading it again as he sat down to his next class, he decided he really lacked the time to puzzle it out. _It might have had something to do with how the other two found me, but I don't know- and that's the only connection I can make._

When school let out, it was like the long hallway between death row and execution. Bodies rushed around him, voices filled the air, and yet he was filled with this odd sense of solitude, perhaps even loneliness.

"Timing just gets better and better." he muttered to himself as he set off to the library finish his homework, or at least enough of it to where he could do the rest before school started on Monday. Sleeping, he woke at last and resumed his nightly costume, taking swiftly to the darkened skies.

 _I don't have much time, all things considered- I need to make the best time I can getting to-_

His thoughts were quickly cut off by the apparition of a green bubble around him, causing him to immediately strike his head. _I forgot about this ass._

"What do you want?"

"I'm bringing you in, Robin. You're a wanted criminal."

"I'm innocent and you know it. The entire justice system is corrupt and you can't even see it."

"If you're innocent, you have nothing to fear." The Green Lantern said as he stared intently at him, raising his eyes to eye level. Robin's eyes narrowed, concealing their rage behind the white optics of his mask.

"I can entirely reject that argument and the entire validity of your philosophy with four good reasons." He responded, his voice entirely serious.

"I'd like to see you try."

"Firstly, the rules may change. In the event that this argument is used to justify increased surveillance, as it often is, we must factor how this new power may be abused by a ruling law or philosophy worse than what we have today. You may support all the laws as they are, but once the surveillance is in place, the state knows about all your violations- even of laws that haven't been passed yet. Secondly, neither you nor I determine what we have to fear, that happy privilege is in the hands of whoever has our information. So you only fly around putting Robins in bubbles as an act of law enforcement. Doesn't matter, someone at a computer screen has already seen it and revoked your trademarked and notarized hero card without contacting you. You're also on a list of 'high-risk planetary outsiders'. Thirdly, lawbreaking is a necessary and morally innocuous behavior. Batman and I couldn't have fought the mobs playing by the rules- that's the entire history of Gotham before he showed up. In order to even act against them, our identities needed to be protected, and adopting false identities necessarily constitutes fraud. You'll have to overlook our reluctance to contact the local Green Lantern, since they usually can't conceive of a situation in which the criminals are in the right. The final reason is the simplest, and that is the reality that privacy is a basic need. I don't do anything I'm ashamed of doing when I wear my mask, any more so than when I go to the men's room. As Robin, I'm not hiding anything about who I am. I'd just prefer the government, the mobs, and every newspaper in town not know my street address and where I go to school."

They stared at each other for a great length of time. Robin had respect for Jordan for his abilities, track record, and his own kind of heroism, and he had little doubt that the Lantern could be shown reason.

"I don't work for corrupt governing bodies."

"Don't work for the mayor. Don't work for Inspector Bard. Don't work for Hugo Strange. I'm sure Batman's told you all kinds of things about him."

"He was more reticent about his own city's problems than you'd think. It made sense that he would be equally capable of hiding what was going on in his mind."

"You believed he had been insane." It was a simple, direct accusation, but not a pointed one. As a Green Lantern, he was an officer of intergalactic law, not a judge.

"Can you blame me?"

"Not really. I hate you for siding with that monstrous hack over your friend, but no, I don't really blame you. If you grew up when astrology was an accepted science even though they had the broadest qualifications for proving things, you'd probably believe that too-"

"His parents were murdered- right in front of him!" Jordan interrupted, visibly annoyed. "Do you know what that does to people? You should, considering you saw your parents die- and then Batman!" He looked as though he might have continued, but had said enough.

"So, what, because of our experiences, we just have to respond a certain way? People react differently to the same things- there's nothing abnormal about that." Robin paused at length, making his exasperation clearer than usual. "Do you know what the main difference between Batman and myself is?"

"He's an adult. If someone dies right in front of him-"

"I got over the deaths of my parents." There was an odd stillness in the air.

"What?"

"I didn't think he realized it for a long time. We both knew he didn't ever overcome it- he told me himself it was his only weakness, the only thing that kept him from being what a hero should be- idealistic, trusting, hopeful. One day I told him that I hadn't missed them in years. It took me a while to get over the guilt of not missing them, but it was what they would want and I knew it. He was the happiest I'd ever seen him. By that I mean he nodded and said he was happy for me."

Green Lantern let him go and he was off again. He guessed Hal was getting himself reassigned. _Perhaps that was part of what he wanted- some sort of explanation. Friends don't keep secrets from friends._ Robin reminded himself he was really just speculating, and avoided filing the information away as fact, but it was possible he realized that by trying to learn of Batman's secret, he was being a poor friend as well. _Eh, I can't chalk this all up to a personal issue, not by a long shot. There were probably several reasons he was here, not the least of which being the huge pile of shit I have to do to get the city back to some semblance of justice._ He landed silently on the roof of City Hall, several minutes behind schedule. _Sometime during the discussion on 'The Robin Problem', they probably decided to see if they could get me to ask for help before forcing it upon me. They reached out to me with Superman because of his ability to empathize, then Flash showed up and did more or less what I asked.  
_ He crawled into the vent as planned, hearing voices below him as he neared the office. _Wonderwoman's helping by training Barbara, though that was probably not part of the plan._ Grayson kept himself from shaking as he heard the name 'Amygdala' mentioned below him, remembering how difficult the veritable monster had been to take down. Listening, he could have sworn it was the voice of Copperhead. _I can't make the same mistake I did last time. Black Mask learned that I was in the room, and he knew how little I could hear. He took advantage of it by swapping himself out with a body double._

"What the Shark doesn't know- is that we want an end to the crime war as much as he does." Hill's voice began. "Consider the 'big guns' to be a reserve against variables like Bane- or Ivy." _He's probably referring to Amygdala- well, him and everyone else who's really powerful and difficult to control._

"Why not call for peace talks? He doesn't need to know we have no reason to continue. We've won." _Strange._ "If all else fails, we hire him and Black Mask's whole operation falls to little pieces without him." _You don't know how his operation works. White is one of many lieutenants- Sionis has people who can replace him._

"There's the matter of Sofia Falcone. She controls the remainder of the Falcone asset, and let us not forget her employed."

"She owesss them." _Copperhead. Definitely._

"Oh, she knows what she's doing. They think they have her, but really there's no way they can compel her to surrender what she owes, by insolvency for Ivy's case. Their trouble is they lack economic experience. They could easily find something else to do, but they stall, gathering around her in the unlikely event they will get what they want." It was something Robin had failed to consider. With a doctorate in biology, Pamela Isley would most likely be intelligent enough, though he supposed it was possible she had a specialized natural talent in the field. _Penguin, though, there's no way he's not figured it out yet. Warren White has one thing right. Penguin is really working for the Court of Owls._ Thinking about it logically, it made sense. His parents had been notable citizens of Gotham- they would have known about the Court. _That was what he wanted to join the whole time, the most ancient crime syndicate in the city- everything else would have just been a stepping stone._

"What do we do about her?" _Knife. Damn. Of course the assassin would have it right._

"Kill her. That's your job. Take as little or as much help as you need." He heard nothing in response, which was what he expected, however unexpected the request had been. It was rare for mob bosses to try to kill one another- but this was different. This was war. _I can't let her succeed. I can't stop her either, not in this condition._ Pressing the button on his radio, he patched himself through to the GCPD.

"Bard." he whispered, almost silently. "I have-"

"You have a warrant out for your-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, I've already deprived you of your favorite Lantern. I'm at City Hall." _I'm not exactly using Bard and his men as bait. It's much closer to a distraction. There are subtle differences to note._ Disconnecting without bothering to explain, Robin listened out for the police radar. _I don't know if he's in the area, but they have to have someone around. After trying unsuccessfully to bring me down, Bard's updated his strategy. Without Green Lantern, he's going to have to get officers in position to prevent me from escaping. The best way for me to get out of City Hall is through the roof, then in the air, so it's the first place he'll blockade. There's only one exit- it'll take a helicopter, but that's it. He can cover the street exits easily. Windows and doors are a variable. Some of these fuckers are fast. Either way, most of them get out, he doesn't really have the men to take them all down, even if they were willing to risk the entire department for his vendetta._

An alarm went off in the room below, interrupting the conversation.

"What'sss that?"

"There's a patrol car in the area." Hill answered. "It's probably nothing, but I would avoid plain sight." He advised simply and logically. From the sounds in the room, Robin expected everyone but Strange to be taking the staircase, though he could hardly identify all of them. He crawled through the shaft after the mayor, who seemed to be heading for the front doors, possibly to answer them. _Whoever they've used as a body double for Hill- probably Clayface- really knows what he's doing. He's managed to hide all of his fellow inmates in City Hall the whole time- right under the GCPD's nose. Some of them would have been disguised, others out of sight entirely. He simply waited for the other mobs to play their hands and cleaned up what was left over- Sofia Falcone._ Far above them he could hear the sound of a helicopter through the ventilation shaft which connected to the roof. _If Gearhead is with this bunch, he probably already knows about it. They'll raise the level of alarm soon._ Robin kicked open the vent cover, rolling out and landing just behind Hill, blowgun and dart behind his back.

"You're coming with me."

"I'm afraid not, Richard. You have only momentarily separated me from my associates, and the police will not arrive as soon as you believe. I hear traffic is a real monster this time of night." Without waiting for the doppelgänger to finish his explanation, he launched a dart, hitting him in the chest.

A single gunshot flew through the window and Hell let slip all its cursed hounds.


	20. Flight of the Robin 2

Hamilton Hill was on the ground before he could give any orders. _They're going to have to operate without his direction, though I suspect that he's instructed them not to fight with the police, considering they're his allies at this point._ As Robin heaved the man onto his back and looked for a way down to the garage for civil servants, it was abundantly clear that if he was Clayface in disguise, unconsciousness did not cause him to revert into a mass of clay. _I suppose he's still basically human, at least when taking on a specific human form._

The plan was simple enough to lack reliance on unlikely events. Having separated the mayor from his men who were hiding, they would not realize he was gone for a few minutes at least. _Strange will be the first to notice- he's the smartest and the quickest of all of them, even Copperhead's senses won't be able to keep up. The main problem is that they're being paid._

Robin had long since learned the real difference between mercenaries and soldiers, though it really required little experience to know you never trusted the first group at all. If a unit of soldiers is being paid and lacks both national allegiance and strict authority, it will flee the moment the situation worsens. _Mercenaries are in it for the money, and money doesn't do you any good if you die. If used at all, they're used as guards, reserve troops- and you can't hire them if you're on the losing side, unless you're dumb enough to offer half payment up front._

Taking the government building's elevators to the lower level, he ended up in what looked to be a garage. _Good._ From having scouted the place out and studying the blueprints of the structure, he expected the cars to be at the lowest level, with a tunnel exit. _Federal officials, foreign ambassadors- if they're important they have business to do here and it's the easiest thing in the world to place a bomb under a car when nobody's looking. That's why the exact location of the parking lot has to be hidden._ He clicked the mayor's keys and found the vehicle in a reserved parking place, mentally kicking himself for not looking there in the first place. _He won't wake for about an hour and the walking billboards for Gotham's underground won't notice he's gone for another minute. Well, maybe.  
_

Even without other things on his mind, he could not allow himself to question the validity of the plan at this point. Though his recent plans had not always worked, doubting them during their implementation had worked a total of zero times, which was enough to stay away from the practice entirely. Throwing his unconscious captive into the driver's seat, he jumped into the floor himself after reversing one of the mirrors, keeping his cape over him as he turned on the ignition. _I'll only be able to see occasionally- and even then someone's going to notice the driver of this vehicle isn't all_ _there._ He heard a cranking sound in the back, thinking immediately that a car was starting behind him. _I'll follow out behind them- I can hear the wheels turning and follow them._ Robin pulled the wheel around and threw the vehicle into reverse.

"What are you doing here?" He kept himself from turning to the squeak of the voice and stepped on the gas, hearing a thud behind him. _Damn._

"The- mayor's- you see he's sick and can't come into work today." Taking a glance in the mirror, it seemed Gearhead had replaced his cybernetic legs with mechanical tentacles, which he guessed would help the maniac interface with technology. "I'm taking him home."

"Nice try, vermin. I'm on to your games." _Gearhead. Damaged after a fall into a frozen lake during an encounter with Batman._ Five needle pointed tentacles drove themselves through the back of the seat, forcing him to move. _Oh he was physically damaged._ Other tentacles drove themselves into the floor of the vehicle. _Sometimes you get the idea, though, that it's more than just that._ The metal limbs integrated with the electronic and mechanical workings of the car, the haunting up and down beeping of the on board navigation system only barely audible above the roar of the engine. _No, he's really fucked up._ The vehicle raced down the rows of cars at a velocity it had likely never known. Robin doubted it would matter if the barrier was up, but they were sure to at least pass by Bard or one of his men. _And at this speed they'll be all over us._

Inside the vehicle he slashed precisely at the steel tentacles coming after him as well as the unconscious hostage. Some of the wires were exposed, but that merely took the task of cutting them with a Birdarang from impossible to one that demanded all of his attention. His ears were flooded with noise and his heart pounded in step with the pistons of the engine, forcing blood through his body like the fire of the cylinders. _You're not ruining this._

The car tore out of the lot, bumping on a curb which tossed both Robin and Hill out of their seats. _You're not killing anyone._ Outside he caught sight of Deathstroke escaping as the officers forcibly brought Copperhead to the ground. _How many of them even are there? I need to make an invento-_ Robin's thoughts were interrupted by a patrol car slamming them from the side. Gearhead sent the engine into overdrive and his hearing detected the sounds of rubber gaskets popping as he forced himself into the backseat with the maniac, pressing the Birdarang into one of his few remaining areas of flesh.

"Drive." They stared at each other, breathing heavily as Grayson held at least three of his enemy's tentacles away, the brown black beady eyes meeting his own white optics. Explosions from outside shook the vehicle, the sounds of skidding wheels and bullets doing nothing at all to loosen his hold, nothing to shake his gaze; nothing to evoke the slightest change of expression.

All at once fear broke out on the face of Gearhead as he held him, kept him from squirming.

"I can't do this-" Outside he could hear the front tires pop, most likely from a police barrier on the road. "I can't see- I'm drowniiiiiiiing!" Robin could tell he was reliving some scarring memory, which was probably the result of staring into white optics and seeing what stared back.

"Shut the hell up." He began simply. "Get us out of town or I'll stab you with your own tentacles." In his peripheral vision he could tell the police had already surrounded them, some of them getting out of their vehicles. _Damn. At least there are other cars parked in the road._ Grabbing the unconscious mayor and the seat as the mechanical limbs jutted out of the car, he maintained stability as Gearhead crawled over police patrol cars, turning their own upside down. _Why the hell did they follow us? There were other-_ Robin quickly scanned his costume for anything that could be interpreted as a tracer. _No, it wouldn't have been anything like that. Chances are they just recognized the mayor's personal transportation._ Once on top of another car, Robin guessed the maniac was simply controlling it with his tentacles, as almost all of them stuck through the roof of their own as he dragged the mayor away from the window where bullets were flying in. The engine below them revved and they were moving again, more holes opening up in the shell, momentarily he wondered whether they would move to the one below them, but already some of the fire from the police was redirected to it. _I really don't need any more bullet wounds._

Gearhead turned sharply into an alley and Robin saw his opportunity.

 _You can hide but you can't run._

Opening a door as the maniac planted the wheels on the side of a building, he scanned the alley for fire escapes, open windows, even a basement entrance would have sufficed. He noticed Gearhead had a nasty grin as he pressed the other car against the other wall.

 _"God damn it you're certifiable."_ The wheels peeled out on the wall and they climbed, windows passing over and above them. Seizing the mayor and kicking the door out from under them, Robin waited about half a second before releasing hold on the vehicle and landing on a fire escape, catching the unconscious captive as he came down after him. _Fuck my injuries really felt that._ Kicking the unlocked door open and dragging the man behind him, he knew he was bleeding badly as the sounds of the cars racing up the wall continued uninterrupted behind him. _I need to change the bandages- I probably should have already._ Finding he was in an apartment, he left Hill on the ground as he looked around for a first aid kit. Finding some gauze wrap under the sink, he removed his shirt and started on the bandages, activating the police radio on his wrist communicator.

"Hot pursuit of supercriminal Gearhead, he's on top of a project- backing up for a jump." Unwrapping the tie on his arm resulted in minimal bleeding.

"Where's he headed?"

"Can't tell. He's on top of another building now." Robin moved to the bandage around his abdomen, where he was already losing blood.

"Helicopter approaching location, loading armor piercing rounds."

"The mayor might be in-" Replacing the gauze strips after cleaning the wound with salt, he grimaced in pain.

"He's not. FLIR picked up three occupants two minutes ago, one now." _Damn,_ _they're using FLIR now. That's going to make things harder for me._

"Gearhead's lost his hostages." He walked to the open door as he wrapped the wound.

"Yeah. You know what that means."

"Motherfucker's going to die." Robin froze as he locked the door through which he came.

"There's nothing I can really do about it." He reminded himself. "Anyone who drives up the sides of buildings is going to get riddled if they go up against a squad of cops." The sound of repeating rounds came over the radio as he locked the door that opened to the hallway. _Hill can't be allowed to leave if he wakes up- at least not for now. The trouble is I don't really have any place to put him._

He knew the plan it its entirety, but this was far from how it was supposed to have gone.

 _For one thing, Gearhead should never have been in there. Since when does he volunteer to guard vehicles? Why were the cops actively trying to destroy it? I suppose it's possible that if they knew he and the mayor were in there together, they considered him 'good as dead'- and even then they had orders to take it down, no questions asked._

Batman had been entirely clear on the duties of police.

"Officers enforce the law, Dick. It's not their responsibility to judge what evidence is necessary and what isn't." He explained as they looked around a crime scene. "They take all of it. The scientists take a look at it. Even some of the valid evidence they can't use, but it's better than not picking it up." It was not the first time Grayson had seen a dead body, but he had not expected to barely notice it. "They do their job, nothing more. That's what we need them to do, that's what we want them to do." The first time, he had nearly thrown up. "What do we do?" He asked, possibly trying to see if the trainee had figured it out.

"I don't really know." He remembered answering as he got access to the police record. "It doesn't seem like we're trying to fix any of Gotham's problems for good."

"We're not." Batman had said as he bagged what looked to be evidence.

"It can't be we're enforcing the law."

"We're not." They examined the body and its wounds, mostly blunt force. "Grundy..." He had muttered.

"Are we acting in defiance?"

"Close enough."

Robin's mind returned to the present as he tied up the mayor in the closet, where he was certain he would be unable to escape, even if he was Clayface. _It's far too cold in there for him to be able to liquify or even nearly liquify. He'll stay put.  
_

Finding the bed and falling asleep after having verified there was no way into the property, he looked down at his body to find he had been riddled with bullets. Unable to think of where he had suffered them, he attempted to stop the bleeding, only to find that the more he put pressure on one area of his body, the more blood rushed out of another one. He was a slowly leaking balloon filled with blood, draining and draining as a white light poured in through the window. Falling over the other side of the bed, he hid, his head pounding and entire body screaming in pain. The light came closer, its intensity shaking the walls and floor as he shrunk further from it, eyes darting about looking for an escape route. Unable to see anything resembling one, he forced himself to stay put, hoping what horror pursued him would leave, or if he allowed himself to believe it that Batman would think of something.

"No..." he muttered through the blood issuing now through his mouth. He removed a Birdarang from his belt, finding only one. Forcing himself to his feet and vaulting over the bed, the shock and the force carried through the impenetrable wall of reality as he woke, that impossibly high and wide and thick barrier that kept the stuff of nightmares from the territory of his mind.

Standing, he noticed it was almost time to wake up anyway.

Hearing hushed voices in the hallway, he expected it was the owner, but as they left the doorstep he guessed otherwise. _They probably just heard something._ He looked into the closet where he had tied the mayor, opening it carefully with a freeze pellet in hand, knowing Clayface would have easily escaped his bonds. The captive had not woken, and Robin checked to see if he were merely pretending. _Either he's not Basil Karlo disguising himself as Hamilton Hill, or this is one role he's really committed to playing._ Thinking on it seriously, the second explanation made more sense. Strange had not known anyone else was present when he revealed that Hill had been killed and replaced, and Clayface was sure to have escaped from Arkham the night Bane broke in. _The guards wouldn't have even noticed him in the water. He's pretty much invulnerable in every possible sense when in the water, and invisible besides._ Staring at the sleeping body he decided that even if the mayor was not Karlo in disguise, he would assume so until proven incorrect.

Checking the time, he noticed it was late Saturday morning. _I lost some of today sleeping._ He could hear the television on in the other room, but as the sound was not loud enough for him to distinguish words, he turned on the television in his own room to mask the noise. _This'll keep anyone from hearing Hill if he wakes up and starts screaming. It'll probably wake him up too._

"Already the search teams are coming up with nothing for three escaped people of interest. The first is supercriminal Deathstroke and as depicted in the artist's rendering he is armed and dangerous. Citizens are advised to contact the authorities immediately upon seeing him." Vicki Vale's face bore a somber expression beneath the seriousness she was supposed to show, conveying excitement and interest. "Second we have vigilante and supercriminal Robin, accused of attempted murder among a host of other crimes." He had hardly wondered how the crime wave had been impacting the citizens, as he knew most simply kept their heads down and waited for it to end. "The third is our own Hamilton Hill, possibly injured having been captured by either Robin or Deathstroke." The just, the fair and spirited of the city, though, they suffered. "The coroner's report states that supercriminal Gearhead died as the result of multiple gunshot wounds to the chest and head, almost all from a railgun on board a police helicopter. Inspector Bard has told us that what few officers were on the scene in time managed to subdue Copperhead and report the escape of an unidentified man with a puppet." _Wesker._

There were no tears in her eyes.

"The bitterest of cynics are the broken-hearted idealists." He muttered to himself, remembering the conversation he had with Gordon, wondering if the man was recovering well. Needing water, he went to the sink with a glass, only to find there was no ice machine. _They've probably got one in the hallway. There's no one around at this time of day anyway and I could use it for pain._ Hearing none of the sounds he had picked up earlier, he went outside, keeping his cape around his shoulders. As he filled up a container, he noticed there was a bullet hole in the fabric. _One isn't going to hurt the glide performance, but any more and I'm going to have to fix it._ He knew how to fix a cape, but it was time consuming and not worth it for one hole.

"Robin?" Spinning around sharply with his staff as it extended, he stopped short before hitting his target.

"Sonia." _Damn._


	21. Flight of the Robin 3

There was some partially visible distress on Sonia's face, but his concern was the gun in her hand. _She's not holding it like an assassin, but she's close enough to kill me._ Pushing the barrel down sharply with his staff, he noticed a change in her expression, first shock, then a cornered, apologetic sort of look.

"Sorry..." she began, uncertainly, though he could tell she did not feel sorry. "I probably shouldn't have pointed-"

"It's okay. Rough neighborhood?" _She's going to hate me for that._

"You could say that." Sonia responded, beginning to regain her composure as he withdrew his staff and put it away. "My father died here-" A door opened behind him and Robin threw himself out of sight. The girl acted mostly natural, though at least she refrained from staring at his hiding place as the passer by appeared and disappeared. "I forgot you were wanted."

"Yeah." He confessed, getting her to follow him through the door from whence he had surfaced. "I have a prisoner here and I'm going to have to work him over. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it." She thought for a moment as he looked over his shoulder at the sound of her closing the door.

"Then you'll have to find the man who killed my father." He refrained from physically reacting to the unusual request.

"Did you see it happen?"

"No. I never saw the body either. But he's dead. I know it." She made herself a cup of coffee as she spoke. "I doubt you believe in superstitious affairs." He noticed her face grimace as she opened the package of instant. "So believe that he would tell me if he were going to be gone for this long."

"I need a name."

"Anthony Maroni." _Damn._ "You don't have to kill whoever did it. I'll do it myself. That's how things work in our family."

"I found the body already. Don't ask me how. I can't report it's location."

"Perfect. I want nothing less than the police involved in this."

"Your real name isn't Maroni, is it?"

"No, but our actual name is unimportant. All our information is under that name. It might as well be real, at least in the legal sense."

"Why'd you choose it?"

"Dead mob families usually pick normal names. Well, names that have no connection to the mob. Dad thought maybe we would be better of with a name they'd never expect." Robin simply presumed he would never get her actual name out of her, which was well enough by him.

"Do you think you know who killed my father?" Sonia asked after a pause.

"It's more a question of what." Grayson decided he needed not tell her how he had found the body crushed and covered in lacerations. "There was a similar case recently, only that time it was out on the street. I found your father in a sewer."

"Whatever killed him lives on land and under it? Like you?" He grimaced, though it was no secret he used the sewer system when necessary. Even if people never saw him go in or out, and they did, his scent would still notify them of his method of travel.

"Probably. We also think it can get up high, because one of the bodies was dropped to where it was discovered." As she listened to his statement, Sonia appeared to be sizing him up. In her lack of haste to respond, he took the same opportunity, though in a less transparent manner. _I doubt this was what Batman had in mind when he trained me to observe without being noticed._ She had black hair and eyes, tall enough for her age, seemed to be in decent shape after the injury he unintentionally gave her. At the moment, she wore a robe, but he had last seen her in some sort of professional attire. His eyes had not been their best at the time. _She's made something of herself. Probably didn't want much to do with her father's old life._

"What? Wondering how someone like me could end up with a father like that?"

"It's the other way around, actually."

"Whatever. The truth is, I mostly live with my mother, and they're separated. I keep the name, though. He _is_ my father, after all." She took a sip of coffee, not reacting to the taste. "I'm not a sweet little girl, myself." He did not trouble to say he had expected as much. "I know how to hurt people. I know how to make them talk."

"Keep it cold in here. Wear a coat if you have to." he began, thinking. "I need to know how to destroy his operation. What the Court of Owls wants, where they are."

"I'll get it out of him."

"Do any permanent damage and I'll never tell you who killed your father." The girl stared for a moment then nodded.

Out the window he activated his wrist communicator to get to Barbara.

"Quiz time."

"Really? Not a hi, how are you, how's training with Diana?"

"Nope. Quiz time. What's the actual name of Man-Bat?"

"Robert Kirkland Langstrom."

"Good." _I only knew him as Dr. Langstrom._ "What's Anthony Maroni's real name?"

"I think that was not in the file." _She's probably right._

"Good, it was a trick question. Have you gotten any better?"

"Every day it seems like I'm getting further from the goal."

"You're doing a good job of locating it, then."

"What?"

"The oracle said I was the wisest of the Greeks because I alone know that I know nothing." Had Barbara been able to communicate an expression through the radio, she would have. She settled for a long pause.

"If you don't remember something, just tell me." she said before disconnecting. _Fine._ He had a vague awareness of where he was going from the last time, as he remembered the basement office being on Bleake Island, but to find it exactly whether by asking someone or by looking it up, he would need the full name of Man-Bat. Gliding, he narrowed down his options on the hard drive and landed not long after. _I'll make it up to Batgirl. I'll send her the files of what I'm unraveling here. That way there won't be a need to catch her up._

Langstrom lived in a basement he had purchased off the owner of the building, which ultimately happened to be Ace Chemicals. Robin had long suspected he worked independently, but conducted his reactions through resources he stole, or possibly borrowed. _I don't go after people based on suspicion._ Taking the elevator that led down to the laboratory, he noticed his eyes were almost entirely back in working order. _If he does steal, putting him in animal control will at least separate him from his unwitting creditors, even if they can't manage to cure him._ He knew there was a cure, or at least something that suppressed the symptoms which included what he had termed 'irritable bat syndrome' and 'sonar sight- adult superhearing required'. As he reached the basement level and stepped out, checking for any unlikely traps, it occurred to him that he was less prone to joking than he had been. _I can't imagine why I'd feel like joking._ He found the relevant information about the hearing restoration project, as the doctor had made no attempt to conceal it. _Of course, I really didn't feel like it all the time._ Grasping it in a basic sense, he understood the extent of the mechanism, recombinant DNA, but failed to see from the notes where it went wrong. _Mostly I told jokes when I was scared._

Robin guessed that if Langstrom had seen no problem with the formula he tested on himself, no one else would, except possibly another scientist in his field. _That's another one of the many reasons you get things peer-reviewed. Either way the problem of locating him has yet to begin. I can't assume he returns here by day._ Looking around the room, it was impossible to tell. There was no obvious 'living' area, or less generously 'sleeping' area, and from what he remembered Robert transformed permanently, needing no addition to keep himself in bat form. _This place has only one entrance, and it's visible from the street. Entering and leaving, especially while a chimera, would draw attention to it quickly, especially with the cameras around._ Given that he had killed judiciously without being seen, Robin could assume whether by design or by instinct, he was acting in a basically rational manner. Noticing a cordless phone on a desk next to a computer, he picked up what appeared to be a name/number/address list. _Langstrom's estranged wife and daughter- one was deaf. He started this project as a way of curing the deaf organically._

"Hello." He began, doing his best to adopt a normal tone. "I was wondering if I could get in contact with Rebecca."

"Hello, may I ask who's calling? I don't recognize this number." _Well, you've answered my question as to which one of you is the deaf one._

"You don't know who I am, either. The girl's father is here." Looking around at the room, empty except for himself, he noticed something that looked like a dog whistle.

"Please... we don't want to talk to him. You don't know how much he's put us through." He could hear a growing sensation of fear in her voice. _I hate having to lie to people, I really do._

"He says he wants to test something- a frequency he thinks she can detect. You don't want him to come over, do you?" Looking at the list of names and addresses there were two names and four addresses next to the name of the estranged Mrs. Langstrom. "Ravenwood Avenue, 1875- funny, that's the year the telephone was invented. Did you know Alexander Graham Bell worked with the deaf?"

"Please... don't let her talk to her father. If he comes up with some way-"

"Never fear, never fear. A cure is unlikely at this point, but we're really breaking ground."

Robin wondered what the point of adopting a normal tone had been if he had ended up sounding as creepy as he ever had in his life.

"Hello." The girl began. "I am deaf and I can't hear you." Though her voice was decidedly odd, it was clear to him she was a few years younger than himself, possibly ten. "I don't understand what you want." _That's pretty good, I can use that._ "Mom says I have to talk to you." Reaching back to the table behind him, he grabbed the dog whistle. "Are you saying something? I don't know." Blowing the whistle into the receiver, he heard her recoil.

"What the hell do you think you're doing you filthy fucking monster?!" _I suppose you don't have to clean it up around your daughter._ Her mother shouted over the phone, forgetting his previous threats. "I'm tracking this number and getting the police on your location."

"Really, please do, there's some interesting shit here."

"What?"

"I'm in the doctor's laboratory. You'll never believe this, but I'm doing my damndest to throw his ass in jail." Robin hung up without further explanation, tapping a few buttons on his wrist. _Explaining would be both unnecessary and time consuming._ Dialing again, he called the number without an address, simply labeled 'mobile'. _If this doesn't work I'm out of ideas as to finding him._

Waiting as the dial toned, he wondered how much time he had before the police arrived. _Since it's a potential threat that's being called in rather than witnessed with their own eyes, probably about thirty minutes. There's also the chance she won't call._

"Hello." Langstrom began on the other end, uncertainly.

"Good evening, doctor. I had been under the impression you were a bit too batty to answer the phone."

"Who is this?!" _Evidently he's either come up with some way of retaining his intelligence while an animal, or he's managed to turn back and forth._

"That's quite the question. Maybe you could tell me who this is?" Robin pressed a button on his wrist communicator.

"Please... don't let her talk to her father." It took Kirkland a moment to react.

"Francine!"

"That's what I thought her name was. Couldn't really get it out of her."

"If you do anything to her, I'll rip you limb from limb."

"Really? I'd assume you would just bleed me out, like your last few victims. Tell you what, though, if you're such a family man, where have you been? These two disappeared three days ago and you didn't notice."

"No... that's impossible. I monitor their activity-" _Well, well, well, I might not be the winner of the creepy contest yet._

"Yeah, but something tells me you've had better things to do than watch over them. Those people died for a reason, didn't they?"

"The transformation- it isn't perfect yet. I can't control myself all the time."

"If you fly around killing people, whether or not you want to, I have to put you in animal control. I can't let you keep tinkering with your formulae until you get it right."

"You small minded- you don't understand- my research puts me closer by the passing hour to curing deafness." _He's probably tracked the call- or he just recognizes the number. Either way he wouldn't stand around talking with his wife and daughter in danger. He's not letting on, though. Smart._

"Your research?! You think your damn daughter cares about being deaf anymore? You think if she could hear, that she would have heard _me_?"

"Robin."

"That's right, you know who I am. The whole world does. I lost my parents when I was nine."

"I can't visit my child any more than your parents can visit theirs." Langstrom objected. "She has her mother, and should she choose as an adult to allow me into her life, I'll cure her. Until then, I have research." _He's still functioning rationally, even if his priorities are different from what mine would be._

"Well, one out of three isn't bad, I suppose. I have her mother, and I have her. You're going to animal control, then they can go back."

"I can't go to prison- I may seem like a beast, but I killed people who deserved to die. I still had that much control. If I go to prison, I won't be able to work-" _He's getting close. If he can change, he'll turn into a man before he comes to the door._

"I'd be more worried about your family. They may have a restraining order, but they can't see you in the dark. Had you been watching out for them, I'm certain you would have seen me first. Instead you violated your most sacred duty as a father." Grayson rose, taking position behind the door, taking the phone with him. "It's not about whether they appreciate it or not- it's not about whether it's legal or not. Gotham is full to the brim of psychopaths and mobsters and if you're as stable as you say, you could have protected them."

"I can still-"

"Not with me around. You've killed people."

"Then you're my adversary. Your counsel is of no use to me, a trap or no." _Clever. Most people wouldn't have thought of that._

"Right. It's too late to make you a better parent anyway. We can ask Rebecca if you like."

"Unhand her." Robin pressed the button, playing the sound of her scream.

"I don't think I will. It sounds like you're almost at the pickup. I can hear the trains." _I can't hear shit over the static. He's probably underground now. I expect that's where he does his transformations._ "When the department tells me they have you, I'll release both of them. What will happen to them after that, I don't know."

"Don't you do that sort of-" the door slung open, though not before he heard the elevator. _I'm surprised he thought he could sneak up on me._ With a simple straight punch to the back of the head, Robin brought down the target as he started to transform. _He couldn't have done it on the elevator- he wouldn't have been able to fit through the door._ Dialing animal control with his hand on a blood vessel and his knee on the spine, he considered that the doctor might have discounted his own sense of hearing, thinking that only he could hear the moving elevator from the same distance, and that his mental image most likely placed Robin at the desk where the phone usually was. Leaving the phone on, he expected the unit to get there first would probably not be the police.

He took the elevator back up.

"Well, that's one murderer I've caught." he thought aloud, the amount of others feeling like some sort of onerous yoke. As he grappled up to a nearby rooftop, he almost did not want to read the piece of paper he had found lodged in the elevator. "Motives, mystery, conscience converse! Is he a Man-Bat, or the reverse?" _Damn you, Nigma._

Gliding to the apartment from whence he came, he decided there was really no way around it. _Falcone's kept her cards close enough to her chest. She's a liability, but she's got a long fuse. I'm better off dealing with the more powerful foe._

At the sound of a screech from below, he planted the grapnel far ahead in the distance and raced into the night.


	22. Flight of the Robin 4

Hill had revealed even more than they had hoped, which Robin found decidedly suspect. It had at times seemed like Clayface could feel pain, but the matter was uncertain. _What I'm sure of is that Sonia's a good interrogator._

"I feel bad for you, Grayson." The mayor began as he concluded divulging what he knew. "You've lost your... authority...direction." _Figures._ "You're adrift. Alone."

"I'm not alone. You are. Without your friends, you're nothing." He began, kneeling down to the prisoner's level. "I've gone a few months without Batman in the past. Granted, it was nothing like this, but the point is I've learned to act independently. Here's a thought, though. What will your gang do without your direction?" Hill managed to laugh without hurting himself, at least apparently.

"I'm a figurehead. They meet in my office, but all I do is relay orders. They're aware the plans come from the Court of Owls."

"He doesn't know where they're based." Sonia interjected, cutting off what might have been his next question. "I tried for hours- he just doesn't know." _Figures. The Court has been around the block too many times to tell anyone things they don't need to know.  
_

"We'll find out. Historically they've been good at hiding, but it won't be some random hotel room where they all meet without their stupid masks." _He doesn't need to know I can recognize a few of them without their masks._ The names of each member had long been hidden, but as the second or third sons or daughters of notable families, they were not impossible to track down.

"You will, I'm sure, but it'll be far too late by then. We know the designs of Sofia Falcone."

"Speak. I remind you that I can tell if you're lying."

"Has it occurred to you that you've yet to see Riddler anywhere?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. He's been leaving me riddles."

"And despite her recent escape from Arkham, you have not caught sight of Ivy?"

"I might have, actually. She managed to disguise herself."

"A woman, yes. I saw her spying on the speech, her form was new but her manner was unmistakable. Falcone probably figured you were about that age." Robin felt the judgement of Sonia from behind him.

"She didn't come up with the flower thing on her own."

"No, not at all. You begin to appreciate the complexity of the plan. Nigma and Isley have been under strict orders, though of course they have been granted a degree of creative control. We know from Penguin."

"You don't intend to break him out either." Hill might have laughed, had it not been obvious. "Their goal was to control me. Sofia intentionally cultivated the image that she was inactive- or possibly on the defensive. In reality, she's been acting carefully and with discretion. Riddler left leading riddles, the intent being to convince me that the information was accurate based on how hard it was to obtain. Ivy had a more sinister role."

Hill simply laughed as a response. _At least I know how bad it is now. The Falcone family and the Court of Owls are enemies- but neither of them will attack each other until I die. The Court knows even if the Falcones succeed in controlling me, I'll only do the same things I was before. The Falcones won't attack them directly- they're counting on me to gradually undermine the Court, protect them as they expand. They'll sign on someone like Prometheus or Henri Ducard, both brilliant men who could sniff out the Court- if I die in the attempt. The point is I have one party using me as a potential weapon and human shield, and the other more concerned about killing me than the first.  
_

"You're just beginning to see where all the puzzle pieces go, aren't you?" The mayor began, still visibly amused. "The balance of power is no more! The Court of Owls has decided to cut out the competition for the last time- didn't ever you wonder why Rupert Thorne's gang broke up? What about Tobias Whale? Anthony Zucco?" He turned to Sonia, probably detecting a change in the expression on her face. "Don't think I could see it? I could feel it."

"Shut up." He recoiled as she raised a hand. _I suppose she knew what she was doing. It usually takes a while to train someone like that._

"We're done here." Robin began as he closed the door, clicking the button on his wrist communicator. "I have enough to incriminate him."

"Wait, that was what you wanted?"

"He was pretending to be asleep when I told you that I needed to know how to disable the Court of Owls. In reality, I just needed him to deliver a non-forced confession. I'm leaving him here for the police to pick up. When he's in a cell, Bard starts to believe my 'wild theories' about the mayor being corrupt. Before that, I need to sleep."

"Robin." She reached out, touching his arm. "What about my father's killer?"

"Animal control has him. He won't be getting out." He watched her expression change from apprehension to anger. "I'm not letting you kill him." Pulling a knife from a nearby table, she slashed wildly. Expertly swaying out to the left, he struck upward, knocking the weapon out of her hand. "I recognized your father when I found him." Grayson explained, kicking her other leg as she swung a crescent kick at him. "Well, that or I thought I did. The body was badly mangled and my eyesight wasn't the best. You might have looked familiar, but I didn't see it until recently." He caught her as she landed on the floor, pinning her down by the arms, knee on her thigh. "Your reaction to your real last name told Hill all he needed to know." He strengthened his hold as she writhed, muttering indistinctly through her effort at throwing him off.

"Get-off-what-are-"

"Your father was the mobster Tony Zucco, the man who killed my parents when I was nine."

Sonia's entire body went limp beneath him, her eyes turned away from the stare of his white optics, tears beginning to well up, her breathing irregular.

"And now-" she started, keeping her voice from shaking "-you've come to... take your revenge... on me?"

"No." _I doubt I could do any more damage to you than your damn father if I tried._ "I've come to help you." Her eyes turned to him, her expression expectant. "When I lost my parents, I never thought I would get past it. They weren't just my mother and father, they were great people. It looked like an accident, but even when the police said there was sabotage, I didn't believe them. No one would kill them-" _No one except your father._ "- it was impossible that people like my parents could be murdered, unthinkable that the world could be that unjust. What brought me peace was helping Batman take him down, drag him off to prison. It took longer than that to stop missing them, to move past my loss, but I did eventually, chasing criminals and bringing about the revolution in Gotham. I never forgot my parents, but I never spared a thought for their killer." _His death means absolutely nothing to me. I'm sure they'll add it to the charges on Langstrom, but he already has a life sentence.  
_

"I don't know... what to do."

"There's nothing you need to do. You live with your mother most of the time, right?"

"...yeah."

"Go back to her. Tell her you love her sometimes." Already the young woman was crying. "When you're ready, come find me again. We'll get a drink or something."

Robin went into the apartment's bedroom and locked the door behind him. _I'll shower in the morning._

Gliding in the air early in the morning, he remembered already having contacted the police. The voices over the radio had been shouting, indistinguishable, but he expected Batman had received the same treatment at one point or another. _It took him a long time to earn their respect- it took me about a week to hand it back._ He exhaled sharply as he plummeted, finding his target. Throwing a Birdarang at the suspect's feet, the man stopped in his tracks and looked down at it as Robin tackled him from above at full speed.

"Mugsy." He began as soon as he had the target on the ground. _I figured I'd see you around here. Now you can answer my questions about the Ventriloquist, seen escaping from City Hall._

"What the-" He punched the criminal in the face. Bystanders scattered. "What the fuck, Robin?"

"Tell me about Wesker. He's had you and Rhino keeping the shop, hasn't he?" At the attempt at resistance, he clapped the target in the ear. _Never fails._

"What's it to-" _Trying to be fresh with me.  
_

"Tell me what he wants, Mugsy." Robin ordered, grabbing his Birdarang off the ground. "He doesn't like the Court of Owls." Fear filled the henchman's wide, darting eyes as the buildings seemed to grow taller with the rising sun. "They're not around to hear you."

"Well- you know what they want." he began, relying on shared knowledge to reduce implication. "Scarface and the Ventriloquist can't have that, no sir."

"What are they going to do about it?" he asked, not bothering to restate the physical threat he posed.

"He's getting anyone- anyone who'll go with him- or against them."

"Blackfire." He pulled a keycard out of Mugsy's jacket, noting it had an address printed on it. _It's a church._

"Yeah, and... others."

"Who?"

"Us." All at once he turned his attention to the sounds he had been passively absorbing from their surroundings. A bird overhead, people walking, sirens in the distance. _Footsteps._ Robin rolled off the downed mook as a larger man brought both his fists down from above. _Rhino. Ventriloquist's other apprentice- the two of them together are walking tropes._ As the second to arrive drew a pistol from his jacket, he slung the Birdarang already in his hand, sticking it into the hand of his enemy where he kicked it as he closed the distance. _I can't infiltrate Deacon Blackfire's operation by force. I need a disguise._ The obvious occurred to him as he knocked out the already weakened Mugsy and turned to Rhino, who was slinging both arms, injured and uninjured. _Anarky. I go as Lonnie Machin- he's the exact kind of criminal who'd go up against the Court of Owls- you wouldn't even have to tell him who they were.  
_ He found that both of the henchmen were unconscious. _We're in Old Gotham. Solomon Wayne's courthouse isn't far._ Looking around, he noticed no police had witnessed his activities as he grappled up, gliding in the direction of the old building. _Makes sense- they're all 'rescuing' the mayor. With a little luck, though, they've gotten some information out of Copperhead about him. The recording I left in the room on an SD card won't help his case._ Reaching the courthouse, he entered through the back way, having remembered the real Lonnie Machin had used an office in the building as a hideout at one point. As he understood it, it was a statement of defiance against law and the authority, sleeping right under the blind eyes of Justice.

Robin found a red jacket and black pants in the closet, as well as a mask- _Hopefully they won't mistake the Guy Fawkes mask for an Owl mask. Wouldn't want anyone to mistake me for a Talon._ Dressing, he considered the possibility of using a similar strategy against the Court upon discovering their location, but as secrets were essentially their specialty, he expected they would have some undetectable method of distinguishing each other though the masks. _A password would probably be too primitive for them. They probably have microchips that they use to identify themselves when their friends scan for them._

He knew at one point, the Justice League had considered a similar measure, at Batman's suggestion, to prevent infiltrators. Martian Manhunter agreed, knowing his powers were not unique, especially not on Mars. In the end they decided to use a retinal scanner, which prompted the Martian to enter as a different League member every day of the week.

It occurred to Robin that he was going to a church on a Sunday, something he had not done since his parents were alive, and even then very little, taking the migratory existence of carnivals into account. Bruce had kept his thoughts on the matter private, though his reasoning for doing so was uncertain. At a certain point, he had thought he had nothing to say about the concept of an afterlife or higher powers, and later he thought it was possible he simply did not want to influence a young Grayson into believing or disbelieving the same things he did. _At that age, it would have only taken a word. For Blackfire's purposes, it's a good meeting place-_ _ _Police don't get suspicious about large crowds of people filing into a church on Sunday-_ though this is probably a coincidental advantage. _

As he entered the nearly ancient building he noticed a mural from the middle ages, a depiction of Christ bearing his cross to Golgotha. Surrounded by soldiers and guilty only of imagined charges, he was yet their enemy, to be sentenced to death by the corrupt Pharisees who had declared him to be the leader of a conspiracy.

It appeared Deacon Blackfire intended to keep the message short. _Fitting, there's work to be done after all._

"Children of the church, you have been persecuted by men who judge you." _Well, yes, that's the word we use for evaluating the risk you pose to a free society and assigning you a sentence._ "They, however, are the ones who have sinned, with their torture devices at Arkham Asylum and their secret cabals that govern our fair city from the underground!" _I'm pretty sure you've sinned too, but apart from that I'll allow it._ Machin scanned the crowd for any people of interest. _That's Blockbuster over there. I was wondering when I would see him. Looks like Jeannette is no longer with the Secret Six- I doubt she's here for Blackfire's promise of immortality, considering she basically can't die anyways. KGBeast must have missed his flight back to Russia- can't imagine how he got here unless he was cleared of charges._

He did not take long in coming to the conclusion that he would have little chance even escaping were his identity compromised.

 _Yeah, I'd be totally fucked._

Batman only mentioned the subject once, and only because he, Robin had possessed an incorrect notion as to the reason for his double identity.

"Practicality is easily the greatest part of it." He explained as they took the grandfather clock entrance to the Batcave. "The nature of my alias and costume is of course symbolic and serves to intimidate my enemies, but I wear a mask to keep from having them show up here. I suppose it would constitute a problem if I had a social life about which I cared, but for all intents and purposes Bruce Wayne is not required to appear anywhere for any reason. People believe him to be a solitary alcoholic, and expect decidedly little of him."

"Do the police have some way of keeping their enemies away?" He remembered asking as they quickly suited up.

"Criminals don't care which cop is which. The commissioner is in more danger than the rest of them, and as a result he is kidnapped or attacked frequently. The reason is logical and true. To enforce the law, he must do so legally, and acting in an official capacity with a false identity is an act of fraud. As far as other citizens go, the only reason they would need another identity would be if their existence or actions in some way challenged powerful interests in Gotham."

The idea turned his mind to Deacon Blackfire, who was still raging, the crowd growing steadily more excited. _His real name is Joseph Blackfire. At no point did he ever have an alternate identity, even as a calling card. I'd question his sanity, but it's probably just his beliefs, considering he thinks that human sacrifice will result in his immortality. If I remember correctly, the only thing Batman ever had to say about him was that he serves as a reminder that corruption exists everywhere, even in places we might not expect it.  
_

All at once the room grew quiet. Machin noticed that the preaching had stopped, and all around him there was a stillness unrivaled. In the distance he heard the crackle of a radio, and when he was awarded a boost by the Abramovici brothers, he saw a mixed crowd of criminals, including the Ventriloquist huddled around what he presumed to be the origin of the sound.

"Scarface's men have been successful-" The scratchy transmission began. "-the Walrus- he's done it." Listening carefully, Wesker leaned into the microphone.

"The diversion?"

"One- hour remains."

"What about our boys?" This was the voice of Scarface.

"Only ... few of them have made ... back."

"The sting, what happened with the damn sting?"

"Walrus got in ... unexpected scuffle ... a few of the inmates escaped ... Clay is dead." _Clay- if I'm remembering rightly, he's the Judge._

"Inmates? Who?" Wesker asked.

"They're - your way."

Machin noticed the excitement of the crowd seemed to die down as the transmission cut out, though the less powerful seemed somewhat apprehensive about who exactly was coming to join them. They received their answer when the doors opened behind them, Blackfire greeting the entrants.

"Hector. Joyous to see you." The two young men made their way inside uninterrupted as his organs churned. "It's good to see you too, Anarky."


	23. Flight of the Robin 5

_I have to assume no one has noticed me._ Robin forced himself to remain stock-still as the young men passed him by, Machin's eyes seeming to linger here and there. _Of all the convicts who could have escaped the facility- wait, now I know how it happened._

Clay was the actual name of a supercriminal known as The Judge, who would kill criminals who were inconvenient to him. While Anarky was not above murder in the slightest, this was an obvious injustice, and he decided Clay had violated the title and perverted the understanding of it. _He was one of the sick ones, but that won't do you any good against Lonnie, it seems. He probably toughed up in Arkham._

"It's good to be back." Anarky began, pausing at length to survey the crowd. "I should think that it is sufficiently clear that I hate the Court of Owls more than anyone in this room." _Clever play on words there, Lon._ "We can't allow any of them to live, as these are the worst type of parasite in Gotham. They're legally untouchable, they're strong in number, knowledge and resources, and most people don't even know they exist." _It's a sufficient argument for those who don't really care about justice, I suppose, but not why they're here. You should really elaborate on how they've tried to get rid of most of the people in this room they can't use. Or would you forgive them for that?_

Robin suspected the likelihood of his being noticed by Machin would increase if he moved, but staying in full view was not significantly better. _The worst part is I can't just ditch the disguise- oh, wait, no, the worst part is that he knows that someone's stolen his identity and I was probably the one who did it._ Shifting slightly behind one of the massive arms of the conjoined Russian twins, he scanned the room for escape routes, including the use of his equipment in assessing them. _It's no use. Even if there were a way out, there are too many armed men in here. I can't survive another bullet, especially not a well-placed one._

"Talking about this further will get us nowhere. What we need is an all-out assault on their location- it's the only thing they won't expect." _The trouble is they most likely have multiple. Of course, I doubt you expect very many of these goons to survive. They're just tools to you, and even then they're tools you'd sooner break than repuprose._ "What the Court has been doing is part of a concentrated effort to throw off the balance of power- and so far it's been working with one variable, one problem in their plan."

"Rrrrobin!" Looking over, he noticed it was Mr. Toad who had shouted, though he might not have needed to look.

"Exactly." The confirmation received objection from the crowd, but Blackfire raised a hand to silence them. Robin doubted he realized Anarky probably hated him more than he hated anyone else, but he most likely respected Machin's fiery passion. "We've been underestimating him for too long. Mr. Toad, you learned your lesson about that a long time ago, didn't you?" The assembled turned in part to look at the odd anthropomorphic amphibian, who simply croaked. "He brought down their front man- the corrupt mayor Hamilton Hill- for those who want to know, he's been sentenced. I suppose that's one man who actually _belongs_ in prison." A roar of approval seemed to shake the windows. "We know he won't stay there, though- not even in the cell they prepared for Clayface." There was a mixed reaction from his audience. _I never kept track of which of these fuckers were in favor of destroying all prisons, every criminal except themselves being in prison, and which were self-aware. At this point I'm beginning to think Anarky has as little sympathy for their simplistic philosophies._

"Get to the point." It might have been Jeannette, though he dared not look.

"It is my belief that Robin has been posing as me as part of a master plan- to infiltrate this very meeting." _Well, that's a lot of credit to give me. I doubt anyone knew this meeting would take place a few weeks ago. At the same time, given the average age of hackers if someone's going to impersonate Lonnie Machin and be his same age or thereabouts- there's not a lot of possibilities. I almost don't want to tell him I took his identity for no other purpose than going to school.  
_

The sharp eyes of KGBeast noticed him first, uttering something in Russian, quietly. Both heads of the Abramovici brothers nodded, moving behind him to intercept if necessary.

"What? I'm not Robin. I was just using your identity while you were in lockup." He explained through the mask. The titanic arms seized him from behind. "Hey- what's this all about- I'm a fan, alright? I'll sing La Marseillaise-"

"Bring him up here. I'm happy you've decided to join us, Grayson. We may still have use for you- though I really wish you would face the compromise of your identity with better spirits." In response, he removed his own hood and bandana, revealing his face to the assembled as the twins took him to the front.

"I'm not Robin! You've seen him-" In truth, his hair had grown longer and he was beginning to develop a thin beard, but he doubted that would help if they found his gear under his Anarky costume.

"Put on your damn mask." He had not expected either of the brothers to interject, but he fully expected they would crush him if he refused to comply, even if he had been innocent.

All around him the stares were incomparable, and all read the same message again and again throughout the monstrously large room. Some were silent, some screamed, forcing air and fire from their lungs, sounds mixing in the spheres like nothing he had known. Machin's face was the last to which he looked, a cold, unshaking expression of certainty under eyes of rage.

"Fine." Robin answered, retrieving the mask from under the Anarky costume and donning it without another word. The familiar white optics stared back to the crowd, back with an emptiness that they remembered.

"I say we kill him." He knew not from whence the suggestion came, but it came with a fury unrivaled.

"Shut your fucking faces." Machin ordered simply. "This fag is going to help us against the Court. He knows more about them than anyone." _I suppose that's accurate._ "See, Batman always knew about the Talons- probably didn't like them, but you know, you just can't think outside the box enough to come up with a solution." _Your idea of a solution is more of the same problem._

"Your idea of a solution is more of the same problem." Robin began. "You don't like the injustice in this city- fine. I don't either." _Here's to hoping they decide Anarky doesn't have their best interest in mind._ "What you fail to realize is that without a system and laws, the justice administrated lacks consistency."

"Consistency? _Consistency?_ That's what you think is important here?"

"Yes, that's precisely what's important here. Without a system of written laws and preordained punishments, justice relies on the opinion of the judges, leading to inconsistencies- different charges for the same crime, different verdicts with similar facts. The Common Law system is ultimately based on precedents for this very-" Lonnie walked over and made to kick him in the gut, which he avoided, noticing muscular definition even through the young man's loose clothes.

"That's enough. As I have a degree of sympathy for discussions of this nature, we shall continue it when the Court is brought to its knees."

"And you plan to do that with an all-out assault? You can't coordinate anything better than that?"

"Tell us their location and we'll adapt the strategy based on that." _Damn._

"You know what, Lonnie, I don't think I'm going to live if I do tell you." He argued, gesturing to the occupants of the room.

"Preposterous. I personally guarantee that no retaliatory actions will be taken against you." _Good. Keep making them angry at you. Tell them in your own words that you're not one of them._ Whispers arose from the back and Deacon Blackfire responded to them.

"Children of the church, regardless of the reason you are here, we have a common goal." _That's almost funny._ Robin suspected it would be more amusing to him if they had not been intent on killing him. "Speak, cultist of the Bat." _That's actually funny._

"The Court has been deliberately taking a back seat, acting only when absolutely necessary. The plan started several weeks ago." He began, piecing it together. "Almost every psychopath, mobster, or common criminal has been stronger than ever- including Deadshot, their ace in the hole. It's a simple enough plan, but it's one no one would have suspected- kill the Batman by ensuring his enemies have the resources to do it. They gave Ivy some rare plant bulbs, mixed some other chemical into Clayface's usual composition, making both of them stronger in ways that would have been hard to explain normally, but impossible to trace back to them. The variable was Deadshot. With enough of the right materials, they were sure he could get it done, but he wouldn't do it for free."

"You're saying we can track the payment?"

"It's our only option. The Court uses cash for this sort of thing- it would have to have been deposited in some bank account that will be waiting for Deadshot when he gets out."

"Now you're saying we need to know where he put the money?" Scarface asked in the distance. "How the hells're we supposed to do that?"

"No, we need the money itself. The serial numbers will tell us where the Court obtained it." _Most likely, they're going to think I'm intentionally delaying things in order to keep them from their death march- or because I have no useful information to provide. After all, the whole point of coming here was because I suspected they had already found the Court._ "I suppose Blackfire owes the rest of you an apology for bringing you here before the planning phase was complete." The response was not quite one of anger, at least not from the more reasonable of them.

"We were assured by Anarky that we would receive revelation on the matter-" the deacon argued. _You didn't know he was breaking out until an hour ago- or did you? I suppose that would explain why you've been relatively quiet these past few weeks._

"I told you Robin would know. He does." He aimed another kick at his subject, who evaded him again, shedding the red jacket he had stolen. Minutes later he removed the loose fitting pants, no longer needing to resemble his enemy in any way. "What we need is to get it out of him." _Mistake number one. When you assume incorrectly your suspect has information, you receive incorrect information._

"I've told you what I know- how to find them-"

"You're protecting them. You're protecting them like you've protected everyone here." _You dug your own grave, retard. Now lie in it._ "No one stays in prison and you know it. The thing of it is, people stay dead. And the moment you've unwillingly divulged what remains in your scrawny mind, I put a bullet through it." Robin doubted Anarky noticed as Blackfire approached from behind.

"And what is it you plan to do with us, child?" He asked, easily concealing his anger. "When the least of these are no longer necessary, what then? I suppose you can forgive Robin by your twisted standard, but do you intend to replace one system of mortal judgement and punishment with another?" He silenced the beginnings of an uproar with a wave. "Let him answer, let us hear."

"For your services against the Court of Owls- which we all agree plague this city-" _Well, now you're just backpedaling._ Looking around behind him, he noticed a door to a church office. _I can get something to use against Blackfire in there- somehow he's managed to hold this entire mob together, and he's got to come down._ "-many of you will be granted constructive posts as to the establishment of protection for the city. The rest of you, if you so choose, may leave with a contract that we may not pursue you." _Not bad, really; I expect you had some time to think about this._

"You intend to separate us from our business? Our way of life?" _Scarface._

"For some of you, turning to crime was a calculated risk that you undertook willingly with reservation, yes, but many are unwitting victims of a corrupt system! How many of you were Black Mask subordinates at one point or another? Would you work for him if you could just as easily be working at-" _HAhahahahaahhaAHAAHAHAHaH I don't think slashing tires and kneecapping people are really transferable skills. I bet men like Wesker would have a chance if he didn't have a second personality.  
_ "-it doesn't matter, anything you want." Robin noticed Mr. Freeze leave the room. _What's he doing here?_

The responses varied, but none were exactly pleased. _Crime in Gotham is self aware after a young age. Kids tell themselves things are too expensive and they steal, but they start watching their own escalating behavior and the secret's out before long. You're not a victim when you're watching rapists and dealers to see how they cover their tracks. Maybe you're too far in to get out. Maybe you're a businessman like any other- but you're not a victim, and it's not just the city that's corrupt._

"You can't speak for us!" The voice might have belonged to Jeannette, though he could not be certain. At the moment he was holding his grapnel behind his back, disappearing ever more softly and silently, creeping out of focus; a dream.

"My path was laid before me-" The Deacon began, though soon to be interrupted by the KGBeast, who simply held up a bloody Owl mask, reminding them of their enemy.

"There can be no dissent." One of the Abramovici brothers began. "We must fight as a unified force." The other continued. "Our enemies will fall to nothing less. They are powerful and many, and they know that this war is here. They started it because they expect to win it. The way we are acting, they will." Blood dripped off the mask onto the unflinching face of the one holding the hammer. "This is what happens when we work together." A deep shout came from the crowd as Robin fired his grapnel gun, latching onto the door and pulling it open as he darted across the room, aware that he had been warned not to use the tool when traveling across the ground. The door to the offices slung open and he was already aware certain weapons were being drawn and the fastest among them already pursued him as he heaved himself into the hallway to the rest of the church. He felt a shift in the air and jumped into an electrical room, leaving a thermite explosive behind him. _The air means there's ventilation in this room._ Power cables laid unplugged on the floor near burnt fuses, all present in his mind as he entered the air shaft, which unfortunately seemed to be a heating duct. _I can't stay in here long._ Climbing up to what looked to be an office area in the room above, he heard the explosion below, followed by a scream. Not seeing any doors or windows leading outside, he dialed the emergency number on an available phone and hung up before opening a door to another hallway, at the end of which he spotted a metal ladder with a no entry sign.

"It'll do."

Heaving himself up the ladder, he punched the trapdoor at the top, finding it to be sealed and sending pain through his entire arm. _Shit. I'll need to actually get this open somehow._ Finding what appeared to be a gauged locking mechanism, he removed his picks from his utility belt and set to work, listening to the tumblers amid the sounds of chaos below. _They didn't know which direction I went, so they split up. There was a scuffle in the stairwell, based on the echo. Blockbuster might have killed someone._ As he managed to at last open the hatch and throw himself inside, closing and locking it behind him as he heard footsteps, he allowed himself a moment's pause to scan his surroundings for a new exit strategy. _I'm in the bell tower. These are usually open at the top, or at least have some sort of window._ Grappling up the landings of the stairwell, he considered that had they knew his path, one of the stronger ones could easily have ripped the hatch out of the ceiling, though not fit through the hole. _I'm sure Jeannette wouldn't hesitate to volunteer._

At the top Robin briefly considered kicking the bell to draw the police cars, but remembered that most bells were automated. _I can't really afford a foot injury on top of everything else. Like how I'm physically exhausted and it'll be morning if I don't watch myself._

Sunrise was distant, but the coming day bade his eyes be watchful all the same.


	24. Flight of the Robin 6

He had earned himself stares over the weekend.

Apparently, now that Anarky was out, rumors among the students that he and Lonnie Machin were the same person had momentarily dispelled, and the official story was that Anarky had tried to steal his identity, not the other way around.

All the same, he felt the stares on his back as soon as it turned.

"Suspicion follows no logical rules, Robin." Batman had explained as they looked for evidence to exonerate Mr. Freeze of crimes he had not committed. "Sometimes people are suspected for things because of public perception of their character. Sometimes they're in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes none of it matters." He tossed a pen and paper journal to Batman, who scanned its relevantly dated pages. "It's a wholly unreliable method for determining guilt and innocence." He had said as Robin stared at a picture of Victor Fries with his wife, Nora. "Do you know what defines a witch hunt?"

"No. I would guess wild, incorrect conclusions." He had answered, setting the picture down and turning to papers on the desk.

"Not really. Innocent people are put on trial all the time, and sometimes they are mistakenly convicted. What makes a witch hunt what it is, more than anything else, is the presumption of guilt. Fries has committed crimes in the past. By all appearances, it's possible he committed this crime, but I don't think so. It's not in his purview."

"The jury doesn't care."

"As long as they can get him off the streets, they will." He was holding what looked to be a video camera, possibly for recording experiments.

"Then they go home and tell their families and friends that they voted not guilty, in case it ever gets out."

"That's possible. Only a majority of them have to be corrupt, Robin. The rest could be lambs." Batman had answered while reviewing the footage.

"Fine. Either way, they never get it back for incorrect conclusions. The average trial takes about a day, which is the minimum time with everything else that has to happen."

"Why should they? It's not a crime to conclude incorrectly. In the same way that it might turn out that they were wrong, it might later turn out that they were right." He probably knew Robin had been staring at him without having to look. "I'm not asking you not to suspect people of anything. I'm asking you to be able to come up with reasons for suspecting them, and never expect the law to act on your suspicions."

He would later regret the entire argument he had made, but Batman never brought it up.

In English class, they discussed the character of Atticus Finch in _To Kill a Mockingbird._

"Machin." The teacher began, having already called most of the other students at least once. "What exactly does Atticus have as an enemy? What is the force of the antagonist?" _Well, the answer 'racism' didn't work._

"Atticus Finch combats what is essentially mob justice." he began, absorbing the stares unlike those from the first few days. "Every legal aspect of the case was in Robinson's favor- the state has to produce medical evidence for the trial to take place, the judge knew what was going on, they could have appealed the case afterward, had the defendant not been lynched. The problem was essentially the jury that happened to be selected. Finch gives them an entire mountain of evidence, and none of it matters. The point is that legal, systemic justice is no different from mob justice if the people are unwilling to participate."

"Thank you."

He understood the basic theme of the subplot, at least in the way that it made sense to him. If other interpretations wanted to take it in another direction, he supposed they were at liberty to do so. _It's not like I'm majoring in English._ The thought, however, gave him pause as he considered his future plans more throughout the day. The idea occurred to him that he had not given a great amount of thought to his higher education, nor had Bruce at any point asked him what he wanted to do. _He did already have plans for the next time Joker broke out of prison, though._

By lunch he had completed most of his homework and decided that he or Alfred probably would have brought it up closer to a necessary time, though the school was actively encouraging freshmen to 'be thinking about it'. _He probably never wanted to pressure me into it. I don't know how many degrees he had, but it probably dawned on him at some point that I would probably not achieve the same level of education._ Grayson had known for a long time that he was no slouch, but probably not brilliant. _Even if I were to attend school for long enough to have the same level of knowledge, there's no way I could be Robin at the same time. Education will require me to travel, probably far from Gotham. Maybe I can take online courses. I suppose that would have the advantage of not requiring me to maintain a false identity in person._ He eventually concluded he would contact the League, as he was relatively sure there were other 'associates' his age going through the same decision.

As he walked to the gym at last after sleeping and concluding his work, a faint tapping in the distance, the thought crossed his mind that each time he went out, he might not return alive with his work. _I'm sure if I die there won't be a need to turn it in._ He noticed a large recycle bin that had been knocked over, and took a detour to right it, figuring it was the result of some angry student, as happened with tin trash cans in movies. Grabbing it, a black gloved fist with metal talons sprang out, seizing his wrist as another went for his throat. _Damn._

Robin struggled, twisting counter to the direction of the man's arm as he aimed a short kick to the face, but he was already breathing a gaseous muscle relaxant, a scent he might have noticed had he not expected its common, subtle odor. The Talon in his black mask avoided damage from the kick and retained pressure on the throat, causing him to lose blood flow to the brain.

"Lonnie Machin? Interesting choice. After last night, though, you really should never have returned here." _He's a Talon... an assassin working for the Court, a physical extension of its will. I need to slow him down-_ "Of course, I prefer the name that I gave you." As he spoke Robin recognized the voice.

"William Cobb-" he started, unable to reach much of his gadgets from his belt _._

"Now, now, that's my name. Yours is Grayson, my great grandson." At the disbelief on his distant relative's face he continued. "I was born in aught one as William Cobb, but I changed my name to Grayson and how fitly have you grown into it- born into poverty, adopted into wealth." He restrained Robin further, keeping him from reaching his boots where he had sleeping darts. "You know this to be your name- would you hate me for speaking the truth? It is the name of the bloodline I created, a new race of perfect warriors of the night- listen to the way it creeps furtively into your mind when you need it most."

"Fuck off." Robin responded, slamming the Talon's hand against the ground with his arm.

"There's a proper warrior. Had you not been born to be a Talon, I would expect you out on the vanguard with a stentorian call." Cobb caught his punch easily as he spoke. "Alas, an assassin must you be. Fear not, much training have you had, much have you yet to receive." The Owl threw him on his back once he had nearly passed out. "Labora identidem. Nihil sine labor."

In the dark there was an endless wall of faces, white light for eyes, their heat and intensity concentrating on the symbol on his chest. Down and further down he went, the faces circling around his path. Their voices were like roaring whispers, names, thousands of names, some he could hear.

"Pinkney"

"Van Derm"

"Wayne"

"Cobblepot"

"Elliot"

"Turner"

"Cobb"

"Kane"

"Dumas"

"Grayson"

"Grayson"

"Grayson"

Robin shouted as he woke, hanging by his feet and separated from his utility belt, unable to see in the total darkness. There was no one in the room with him, at least not that he could hear. Trying to get some semblance of bearings, he was able to discern he was in a small room, a basement. A voice answered one of his questions immediately.

"This isn't our headquarters. This just an old haunt." The voice belonged to an old woman, though he had no idea how old, given that Cobb was apparently immortal. _I'm betting he can still be killed, for what it's worth. That established, it would probably take a long time._ As the light came on he noticed a deep hole in the basement floor, a pit of blackness. "I shall not tell you what lies down there. I have misgivings you would believe me."

"We'll see about that."

"Then, for your purposes and for mine, consider the bottom of this pit to be the gates of Hell." _It's what they do to unruly Talons if the claw marks on the floor mean anything. There's no way those guys can be completely obedient with the power they have- at least not if their brains are still functioning properly._ Robin noticed that despite not wearing his mask, he was mostly in costume, as the clothes he wore over it as well as his belt and staff sat on a table near what appeared to be torture devices. "For a long time now, Richard, you have gone without your proper discipline. It appears you know a few parlor tricks and can bring about temporary inconveniences for minor players, but to eschew your true training, the fit mental aptitude for the work of the Court would be to do you a disservice."

"I'll pass." _I can't wait until they toss you in a home. Chances are, you'll be there another few centuries until they kill you. Well, that's assuming you're all immortal._ "I assume you have a key for this lock up here?" Looking up at the chains, he noticed they held his boots in place with the expected padlock. _Simple, effective, not possible to hack._

"As a matter of fact, I do. It seems young Wayne reared you to be an intuitive lad, at the least." _Now I take her mind off it._

"Falcone works for you, doesn't she?"

"Her holdout in the recent conflict has been at our admonishment. She knows the side on which the bread is buttered." She took an electroshock device from the nearby table as she passed it, activating to reveal its pulsing field of electricity, leaving no gaps through which he could grab or strike her, even had his hands not been bound as they were. "You on the other hand, will most likely require persuasion." Flexing his legs to force her to come directly under him, he nearly flattened himself against the ceiling. "This is a truly wasted effort, boy." she chided simply as she extended the arm holding the device. Reaching for his boot by twisting, he grabbed a dart out of his boot as the field electrified him. Waiting for her to extend her arm again, he went down to full length as quickly as possible and seized her arm with his teeth, completing the circuit as she pressed the button on the device and directing the electricity through his own body into hers. Frightened and seizing in pain and shock, his captor dropped the instrument and he saw at once she was not to move any time soon. Painstakingly dragging her up to where he could hold her for a moment, he grabbed the key and dropped her, absent of sympathy. She landed on the edge of the hole. _Damn. Now I have to drag her out._ Unlocking himself, he descended to the floor at a safe distance from the pit and moved the unconscious body. _She's definitely no Talon. Whatever's at the bottom of the pit would kill her if the fall didn't._

When he had again equipped his tools, keeping an eye on the door that led down to the basement, he noticed he was still holding the dart. Getting the tube he used as a blowgun out of his boot, he waited behind the door. _When Cobb or anyone else gets here, two possibilities are likely. One, they search the room. In that event I'll hit him with the dart. I don't know if his suit's thick enough to withstand it, but he doesn't know either. He may simply back down, unwilling to risk his life in an all out fight with me, but somehow I doubt it._ His ears could pick up the sound of a radio in the distance, though he could not discern the words. _Two, they go for medical assistance. If that happens, they'll either leave the room or rush over to the body. Either way I can escape._ Robin made no attempt to decide which course of action they were likely to take, but the one he knew to make the most sense was searching the room. Even for someone who knew nothing about the situation, it would be clear the old woman was bait, or at least a distraction. Listening out for any sound, he flipped the table and dragged the unconscious Owl behind it, leaving an outstretched hand visible. Crouching again by the stairs that lead up to the door, he readied the blowgun and waited.

"Cobb." The voice was not one he recognized. "Get in here and search the room. I'll get Agatha out of here." _Damn._ An apparently normal man took the stair down into the basement, looking around briefly in the relative darkness before seeing to the old woman as the Talon came down the stairs behind him.

"There's no way he's in here. Left alone a long enough time, he would be long gone. We never would have seen him." _I didn't know that. I couldn't have known that._

"Search the area anyway. If he's not here, you can gloat about it afterwards."

"Suit yourself." Cobb said as he peered around the table, looking at the body. "Comeuppance comes quickly, Agatha." He began a perimeter of the room after checking the hole. _I didn't think to hide in there. There's probably some way of keeping you from climbing out.  
_

The Talon paced about the room peering around barriers and obstacles. _He's trying to make it seem like he doesn't think I'm here- If I didn't put that together I'd be dead._ Waiting for an opportunity, Robin moved and discharged the dart, hitting Cobb in the back silently. Before he saw the dart the assassin twisted, grabbing the dart as it hit him.

"No worse than I expected."

"You've been stuck. Give it up."

"You haven't won." The Talon threw himself with incredible speed. _He figures he doesn't have a lot of time._ Robin ducked and rolled, drawing his staff and swinging out with it as his first foot hit the ground, translating the force into the weapon as Cobb jumped it. Grabbing and choking up as he continued to spin, he forced the bo staff straight at his enemy's arm as he came down with his claws, gaining a glancing blow and jumping backward.

"You don't have the reach." Robin threw a Birdarang which he expected to be dodged as he brought the metal pole to his enemy's side, not expecting him to duck and lunge forward, grabbing his feet. _Damn._ On the floor, the assassin had the upper hand, talons digging into his ankle as he held the staff with his other hand. _Not having intervened, the other man is either not a fighter- or confident in his ally's ability._ Grayson noticed a weakness in his side where he had been stuck before, planting his free leg against it and pushing hard, breaking Cobb's optics with his other hand by letting go of the staff. Staggering his foe, he freed his ankle and retracted the staff, dodging a punch and blocking a succeeding swipe with his elbow. Forcing his way up and jumping a leg sweep, he extended the staff as he had it planted against his own chest, driving it straight into the Talon's chest, throwing him back.

For a moment he hung there, suspended, at the end of the staff and the edge of the pit.

"There are other Talons, Grayson-"

"None who know my other name." As the assassin twisted out of the way he simply thrusted forward. _There really wasn't a lot he could do from that position._ Robin stared at the other man in the room. "I'm betting he doesn't _need_ to eat down there." He started again as he walked over, the Owl having revived the older woman. "But I imagine he'll be hungry. It'll take him a long time to get out of there, after all." Slinging his weapon out to full length in his hand, he noticed they had no apparent mechanism of escape. "I'm sure he won't kill you." _He totally would._ "He'll just take a nibble here and there."

"William- acted alone." The man stammered out as he picked up his bundled clothes and began to walk out. "None of us know what he was doing- he didn't share his information." _Seems like him. I can't really do anything else but assume so._

"That'll be all, then. Have a nice night."


	25. Flight of the Robin 7

Robin landed on the roof of Gotham City Rail less than ten minutes after escaping the old theater house where he had been kept prisoner. _This is the fastest way that quantity of people- well, mostly people has of getting to the Court of Owls from the church, which I expect was basically their meeting place. I need to delay them and get there first._ Cutting the power to the rail would be a childishly simple task, though in his mind he acknowledged his definition of 'childishly simple' was somewhat skewed due to the expenditure of his childhood under Batman. Finding the exposed power box on the alley side of the building, it was apparent that the lines had been cut, repaired, and cut again. _I'd be surprised if the Court didn't know about this. At the same time, I really have no idea how they'd have planned for Blackfire and his men to use the rails._ The temptation existed to assume the Owls knew everything, but this was as unwise of an assumption as it was unlikely a reality.

There were lights on at the nearby church. _They haven't left yet- but they're going to do it tonight. The longer they wait, the more likely they are to lose the advantage. That is, unless the Court's already found out about them._ Grappling to the gargoyle, the design did not provide him with an opportunity to peer inside until he made it up to the bell tower through which he had exited. Peering down the stair it was apparent that no guards had been posted, and thus they had not learned of his method of escape. _It's probably not as bad as I think it is. Whatever they're doing, it's most likely that they're about to leave._

Reaching at last a sound booth that overlooked the greater area of the church, he could see what was going on through the black woven panes that covered the speakers, which he moved. _Damn._

On the altar directly below him he saw Anarky writhing around in a vain attempt to keep his heart from being pierced by the dagger held by Deacon Blackfire. His wrist communicator made a sound. _What the Hell could it possibly be?_

"Speak."

"Robin. I'm back." _Gordon._ All at once it seemed possible, everything, the rescue of his enemy below, the expulsion of the Court and all its vestiges- Robin assumed the Commissioner had already been informed of recent events. Activating the speakers and removing the panes that dampened the frequency, he responded, keeping his voice level.

"What do you need?"

"Your location- we know you're going after the problem at its source." He clicked the sound cables into the board, where he increased the frequency further before temporarily deafening himself with pressure to the nerves connecting his ears to his brain.

"Divinity Church. Prepare for war." He jumped through the hole as the mechanical screech came from behind him, landing on the priest and grabbing Anarky, finding his hand halted by Blockbuster, who was apparently not responding to the sound. Noticing that Machin's ears were protected at least partially by headphones, Robin was less surprised than the brute to find Blackfire's dropped dagger embedded in the monster's abdomen. Grappling and swinging to the other end of the room, Machin swayed as a counterbalance to guide them away from a thrown knife. Sprinting out the double doors as they landed, he missed whatever Anarky said to him as he kicked a flying Scarface, who had been thrown at them by a confused Wesker. They reached the street quickly enough to avoid the swinging arms of the Abramovici brothers and vault over the approaching patrol cars.

His hearing came back gradually on the roof of Gotham City Rail as he remembered something Batman had told him.

"Hal Jordan asked me one time if I would sooner lose my sight or my hearing." He had said after they managed to rescue Gordon's daughter from a handful of thugs. "I told him I need my hearing to detect my enemies behind me. For him it was his sight. He told me that he needed to see to be able to imagine things, and imagination was more than the source of his power. It was the source of his hope." Batman paused at length on the roof of the GCPD where only moments earlier they had reunited a tearful father and daughter. "Every time anyone on the League asked me how it was I never expected anything better out of the world, I said it was because of everything I've seen." They glided silently down to the Batmobile. "For him it was the opposite. He and I both know what the world is like, and he's seen worlds beyond, many filled with horror unending. And yet, he has hope, and he attributes it to what he can see." They entered the vehicle and were away. "I conceded the point to Jordan, but he brushed it off."

"Hey, Robin." Anarky started, bringing him back to the present. "Are you going to arrest me or something?" Looking at him, he would not be in a position to resist much, as he had by all appearances been beaten soundly by multiple large fists. It was a wonder he could stand with his injuries, much more so run.

"The cops are down there. Tell them who you are and they'll take care of it."

"What was the point of dragging me out of there if you're just-"

"This is how I argue with people, Lon." Robin began simply. "Do you know why I blocked your efforts twice before you managed to break out? It's an illustration. I know how laws work. I know how governments work. I can use this against people like you." Machin appeared annoyed. "You claim to be an idealist, but really you're the worst kind. You gave up on due process for the sake of practicality. If you want to create a just world, you can't work with criminals and you can't work the way they do. I imagine you had some future plans for Gotham after you deposed the Court, but what then? The citizens of Gotham never supported you before, they wouldn't support you after that."

"There would be problems, yes, but only with the corrupt system out of the way can we improve things." _Fair._

"When you get rid of that, would you uncover an uncorrupted people? They don't value liberty or justice. They value their comfortable lives, more so the more comfortable they are. This doesn't give other people the right to oppress them or kill them, but they can't really call the city a grave. It's the future they chose."

"We've learned from history. Robespierre made the mistake in claiming 'temporary order' when really he was just being a dictator, worse than before. The thing is though, just because he brought in an age of mob rule doesn't mean France was better off staying under the king. We don't know what would have happened if they hadn't executed him, but the entire royal system is geared toward self-perpetuation. The bourgeoisie even had a good way of replacing it before they had to get rid of the king for betraying the revolution." Anarky sighed. "The problem was the rest of the population. The nobility realized they were next and they had the peasants trained like dogs."

"The peasants believed in divine right as well as the three estates system. The reason it was different in America was because the colonies were essentially already free and self-governing. The English made the mistake of thinking they could take control when they really never had any authority or means of establishing it."

They stared silently at each other, eyes for optics.

"I'll return. Populist revolutions may have not worked in the past, but that doesn't mean they won't ever work, and only by trying them under different circumstances can we discover the truth. Perhaps I've failed, but I've failed in the act of what I believe to be right and necessary." Machin straightened himself and began to turn. "I'll have a better plan when I am free from prison, however that may come about. Expect me."

Robin said nothing as he left, listening out for him to reach the officers below as he activated the radio on his wrist once more.

"Gordon. What happened with Bard?"

"He's helping. You may have missed this, but the real Hamilton Hill surfaced- he's alive. Unfortunately for us, he tried to resume every protocol his double had enacted."

"What did you do?"

"Officer Bullock arrested him for fraud shortly before my daughter picked me up from the hospital." _Barbara's back._ "There can't be two mayors, we already have one and he's in a cell designed for Clayface." _He'll be out by morning, but his plans have been delayed._

"Good thinking, Gordon." He responded, able to contain his amusement. "Tomorrow I have a Court date." He began as he tried to remember where he had stored his civilian clothes. "I think I know about the full extent of their plans- at least from everything I got out of Hill. We need to keep an eye on Falcone and White. I think they want the Owls to believe they're done, in hiding, you get the idea."

"You have reason to believe otherwise?"

"Call it a character assessment. One of them has Victor Fries- they were using him to spy on Blackfire's mob. He left conspicuously and he never would have counted himself among them in the first place."

"You understand I can't take your word for it."

"Don't. Keep an eye out for White and Falcone because you received an anonymous tip that they're both up to something big." _When I get back I'll send the same tip to Barbara._ The very idea of it already concerned him. There was something decidedly suspect about Ivy's activities- more so than those of Riddler, though he was definitely involved. _That riddle I found hasn't helped any case for his innocence._

The riddle was on the entrance to Gotham City Rail, where he had seen it a matter of hours earlier, having time to think on it as he glided back to the garage.

 _All over the city, just what's going down? Why are they using rails? Are the roads broken down? Is everything simply frozen in this town?_

Though he had previously not dedicated much time to the riddles, this one particularly stumped him. _It's like something I've been wondering in the back of my mind this entire time. It can't be Mr. Freeze, though- the subtlety is about on his level, but I can't imagine what he's trying to accomplish. It's possible the Riddler is wrong- he's been wrong before, but it's more likely he's trying to mislead me.  
_

Entering the garage and making his way up to the offices, he made sure to restock his gear, including an electroshock mechanism for his belt. He radioed Batgirl, noticing she had tried to get in contact with him earlier.

"I hear your father's back on the force."

"He is. Training went well."

"You're done?" He asked as he sent her the information through the communicator, remembering it all of a sudden.

"No. We need to practice more, a lot more. The more I practice against her, the more apparent the gap becomes. You would think she relies on her superhuman strength, but she really is an incredible fighter. We have to put it on pause now that I have a dad who watches my movement again."

"You learn anything else?" He asked, expecting a positive response.

"A lot. She has something on her mind, and she wants to tell you herself, in person." Robin could hear movement and he rose silently, not wanting to give any indication he knew there was someone there.

"I'm in the office."

"That will not be an issue." Diana's voice came as she entered. "I scanned the skyline until I spotted you. Your friend told me about this place."

"I see." _What is it that's so important?_

"Firstly, I came to tell you that I too have found the death of your leader to be hard to accept. Batman showed incredible skill, intelligence, and heroism for a normal human, and though mortality seems the prerogative of such a species, his own was something I had never guessed."

"Well that's nice of you." _Direct, summary, but oddly nice._

"Secondly, I have consistently opposed all efforts made to 'help' you. While I understand Superman, Green Lantern, and others have acted earnestly and in good faith, I argued against their ideas about Gotham and its protection, asking if they were worried Gotham would die or simply fail and be crushed." The implication was not lost on him. "I believe that you have the right to live or die by your own choosing." _Thanks for the vote of confidence._ "Either way, I believe I learned something about you that many of the others do not know, or at least understand."

"Yes?"

"Earlier, I contested Batman's discretion in bringing you into his leadership 'at the ripe old age of nine'. He did not bother to correct my presumption that he impressed you to duty, merely stating that you needed to see the punishment of your parents' killer." She eyed some of the gear lying around. "At the time, I assumed overmuch. I asked if he intended that you would turn out to be the same as he. In turn, he informed me it was the opposite. On any other day, I might have called it a confession of weakness, but this was something else entirely."

"Batman wanted me to be better than he was."

"I believe so. Though this may already be clear to you, it is my view that you should know this is your life, your choice, your Gotham. Only in choosing to do so out of the same sense of justice without any underlying motivations of guilt, fear, or grief can you transcend your leader as he wanted. Know that his was a character to want it for you, not of you."

Without any further comment, she left.

His dreams were dark and drew sweat to his skin, but they escaped his memory as he woke. Like fleeting breaths of air, they were gone seemingly as soon as they arrived. _I have to get to school. I'll be late if I don't leave now._

Gliding, he considered radioing Gordon, though he doubted he would gain new information. _There's no way the police rounded them all up. The most they probably could have done was pick off a few of them as the rest ran._ The GCPD had long ago learned to combat crime defensively, minimizing risk to the lives of the officers. Arranging the cars in angled rows, they shielded themselves from powerful charges as well as most supercriminal abilities. Other threats, the subtler and the more deadly they found themselves leaving to Batman every now and then, and in the beginning that took the form of his hunting down the people of interest, subduing them, questioning them, and tying them up before the police ever arrived. As far as an act of shirking went, it was the most unwilling of which any of them knew.

Attending school was exactly what he expected it to be.

In short, his classmates had generally forgotten about recent developments, and Anarky, the villain who apparently lacked an actual name did not stand out to them among the names of those who had been arrested, especially not when one of the Abramovici brothers had been mentioned as well.

"How the fuck do you arrest _one_ of those crazy asses? What's the other one doing?" One of Orenthal's friends had started at lunch. "I'm sorry your honor, but this is the classic 'twins episode' where you've confused my actions with those of my twin. I was actually completely innocent of the crimes he committed, so it looks like since you can't take him to jail without taking me, we're both free to go."

"The other one's dead." Machin said simply and without emphasis. "They were attacking the cops and they put a bullet through his skull- didn't have a choice. The other one couldn't fight with that much dead weight and basically fell over and waited there for the police to take him to a cell. They won't force him to live with the corpse of his brother attached to his body, but separating them will be difficult and costly, and as a result probably take a long time to actually happen." The mood darkened considerably, but he could not bring himself to care. "They're bad guys." He added as a caveat. "Maybe the dead brother deserved to die. I can live with that. He was a murderer because he had the conviction to act on his hatred. Most people don't, they just sit around wishing other people would die and they imagine themselves to be _better._ Maybe the living brother deserved what he got, a punishment worse than death." He took a long drink of water. "I have a little more trouble living with that, but I suppose it could still be true. It just makes me wonder how many people would suffer the same fate if everyone got their just deserts."

One of the friends had risen and left as he was speaking, but the rest of them were giving his monologue its due.

"Damn." One of them offered. Orenthal neglected to comment, possibly having expected it or something similar.

"Sounds like you were there."

"I had work to do in the area, so yeah." The conversation ended soon after that, with his rising to leave for his other classes. _My character was really slipping there. I've become too familiar with people- to the point where I actually tell the truth here and there. I need to work on that going forward, but really I've got other things with which to concern myself. Funny how things work that way._


	26. Flight of the Robin 8

The night was dark when at last, as ever, he surfaced as Robin.

Riding atop the train he listened to the low hum of the wheels on the tracks. _Blackfire- or someone else, possibly Scarface and Wesker- gathered up whatever they had left of the available forces for a march on the Court._ The moon cast her borrowed light across the cloud issuing from chimney at the front, a searchlight through the emission of a smoke pellet. _I'm exposed up here- but it would be worse inside. I'd have no way of surprising the passengers, and I suspect my enemies aren't alone on the train. That means they have hostages._ As they left the glow of the city he could begin to see stars in the distance, radiant white lights that from age to age stared down on the dark planet. _If I'm to obtain the element of surprise when I get there, I need to let the Court's men deal with these ruffians. Chances are, they won't be any trouble. I doubt they could have anyone who could kill Amygdala except possibly KGBeast, and that's a stretch. Jeannette's going to be fighting a Talon- whoever it is will die before she does, but that doesn't mean she'll kill him._ The cicadas could be heard if he listened for them, chirping away over the waters, the vibrations of their wings making noise for their silent mouths. _I'll enter from upstairs. The Court of Owls is well protected and its members are ageless, but they have to have a vulnerable nerve center._ Far below the bridge a fish leaped out of the great body of water, alone in its element. _  
_

Reaching the train station and seeing conspicuous characters exit from different cars confirmed the worst of his suspicions.

 _They have hostages._

 _They're going to Wayne Manor._

It had been on the back of his mind as a possibility, a concerning thought at best. _The location suits them. They knew it was empty long before anyone else did- they hired Deadshot, after all. I did one of the only logical things- well, I suppose one of the only logical things once moving to a different town was removed from consideration. As far as I can tell, all roads lead to my abandonment of the Manor._

A line of cars had been waiting for them at the station. _I suppose the van Derm family would never have wanted the manor too close to the tracks._ Gliding down and landing behind them as they started off, he was surprised to be holding onto a vehicle not moving at a turtle's pace. _They don't have any reason to look behind them, but I can't bank on it. They'll see me before long unless I get in the trunk._ Robin was aware of the difficulty of entering a moving vehicle, especially when not through the door, but there were a handful of slow vehicles ahead. _Drivers have to slow down for others, even if only slightly. The result is that the vehicle behind slows down slightly more. Eventually someone has to stop, even if but for a moment._ He heard a gunshot from inside the vehicle. _Damn._ Already having concluded his previously unwitting hosts had learned of his presence, he let his body go limp and roll off the top of the vehicle on the side where a bullet had gone straight through the roof. _In all likelihood they knew before they let on._ The men who stepped out were normal criminals, it appeared Jeannette deigned not exit. _As I hoped, the others are still going. It's possible they didn't even hear the shot._

"Well isn't this funny? You make it all the way here and then we just shoot you?" From the corner of his eye he could tell both of them were armed. Rolling in a non threatening way, he listened to their further japery before setting a freeze pellet on the ground before him. Getting them to approach from behind his cape trailing, he continued his charade by crawling forward on one arm. _Lucky they're enjoying this. Well, any one of them would be, they're just particularly stupid._ The second the explosive went off, trapping their feet and drawing the barrels of their weapons away, he spun with an elbow strike to the abdomen and a straight punch for the other.

Jeannette applauded sarcastically after both were on the ground.

"Exemplary. Really, if you wish to go home with such exuberance, simply enter. I shall not obstruct you."

"How'd you know where it was?" He asked as he entered by the back seat, planning to freeze her with his remaining pellet if necessary.

"We deigned look upon a map."

"Not the manor, the Court of Owls."

"Do you have aught an idea how old I am?" She asked, not answering the question.

"My mother told me not to guess if I think it's more than thirty." _Of course she looks much younger, but according to some old portraits she's looked that way for a long time._

"Clever. I happen to be around four centuries, well more than long enough to know Gotham's history. The Owls may have attracted me with an offer as a Talon, but truly they possess naught to offer that might interest me. I already am immortal, and atop that I doubt I shall ever die by wounds. All the same, I knew about them." Robin remembered much of the information he and Batman had compiled about her back from her days in the Secret Six with Scandal, the daughter of Vandal Savage. There were rumors they still associated, but it was of little concern at the moment.

"When did you immigrate?" _May as well establish some sort of timeline._

"I misbelieve I have. You see, mortal lad, an immigrant intends to move someplace in perpetuity, for the rest of his natural life. I, on the other hand have no natural lifetime, ageless and deathless I intend to die nowhere. Consider me a traveler, ever to visit whatever land suits me." Robin accepted the logic of the explanation, though it neither answered his question nor struck him as particularly enlightening.

It occurred to him that he was about to attempt the same strategy he had with the mayor, and Black Mask before that. _Go in quietly, find the boss, drag him out unconscious, something goes wrong, shit, why is this all happening the same way? I suppose it's the plan of action that makes the most sense on the face of it, but I don't really know where I would go from there if I did succeed in capturing the leader of the Court, if there is one. In all probability, the leader would be legally blameless, like it is with many of the mobs. Even if I managed to imprison him, I have every expectation the rest of the Owls can function independently if they don't simply replace him with any one of their other overqualified members. I need a new plan._

The car stopping suddenly interrupted his thought process, and Jeannette motioned for him to get out if he would ever do so. Exiting quickly as he had decided that entering secretly would be better in each and every event than entering openly, he grappled to the roof as Jeannette went ahead into the garage. Wayne Manor had an extensive security system, but in actuality it was mostly for show. There was no better security system than Batman, and he doubted the Court had anyone watching the cameras since they had all been linked to the Batcomputer. On the roof of the late Victorian design, he scanned for the entrance that led down to the spiral stair, which had been installed in the event Alfred was ever taken hostage. Dropping down through the disguised chute, he was close to the guest bath, a centrally located room without windows where invaders would be likely to take those they had kidnapped. Listening through the walls, there was no conversation going on. _Damn. Either there's no one in here or I'm going to have to find out the hard way._ While he and Batman had ever enjoyed conveniences like usable ventilation shafts and floor grates for heating, and though many buildings in Gotham were constructed with that design philosophy, the same was not true for older buildings, especially extravagant residences.

"-so, anyway, if we're going to be working-" Robin's head snapped to attention at the conversation making its way up the staircase. _Hill- he's no threat, but I have to surprise whoever's with him._ Flattening himself against the door to the bath, he remembered a crucial piece of information regarding spiral staircases. _The style in which they're constructed is traditional now, but practical in origin. They twist upward and to the right so that an invader has to either use his left hand for a weapon- or expose his entire body._ Extending his staff from cover, he swung out as they passed, fully expecting one of them to dodge. _Knife- of course he's talking to the assassin. She's connected to the League of Shadows and he needs to know why they haven't shown up._ Knocking Hill in the head was an easy enough task, but his conversation partner was already coming up with her signature weapon. Memories forced their way back into his skull as he dodged, keeping the advantage of being upstairs of her.

"Assassins are dangerous, Robin, but they have a fatal weakness." Batman had said. "Most of their targets can't effectively fight them, and they usually expect little in the way of resistance." He explained after they had apprehended Deadshot for trying to kill Jeannette, which of course merely turned her on. "They're also mercenaries. They won't risk their lives over anything, and if it appears their lives are at risk, they leave."

"That's why Deadshot tried to leave."

"Yes. He usually has an exit strategy in case he misses or is found out, as unlikely as that is. This time, the target just didn't die."

The sound of a knife colliding with the wall and ricocheting brought him swiftly back to the present.

 _Knife knows she can't hit me._ Robin responded by swinging out with the staff again, which she grabbed rather than jumping it. _That was unexpected._ Using leverage against her, he pushed his own end of the weapon into the central column of the staircase, forcing her against the opposing wall, from which she threw another knife. Ducking it, he closed the distance and kicked her in the abdomen before knocking her out. _I'm pretty sure the hero convention about hitting girls doesn't apply to the League of Shadows._ Thinking more on the organization as he stepped over her in search of Hill, he decided Ra's al Ghul was likely staying out of the conflict, as mob wars were of little interest to him.

Finding the mayor in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs, further than expected, he reached down to check his pulse to find a surge of clay enclosing his gloved hand, wrist, and arm.

"Nice try, Robin."

"Karlo."

"The genuine article. You only captured my double."

"Real funny, Clayface." _At some point I should tell Gordon he's wasting the Clayface cell on our esteemed mayor._

"No, really. I think my cleverness deserves note. You can't use the freeze tech on me if I grab your arm. You've already lost." The clay continued to envelop him as he struggled, the mass of his enemy already having turned to walk downstairs. "I was instructed to bring you to the Court if I found you." Now completely in earthen form, he was every bit the foe of before, almost entirely invulnerable and able to go around any obstacle. _I couldn't knock him out even in the best of cases._

"Where are you even going?" Robin asked. _I'm wasting energy trying to get away from... out of Karlo. He doesn't intend to keep me here forever._

"The Court wants to see you." _They're going to have someone with a prior engagement.  
_

"Why?"

"They said they'll try to get you to join them. Waste of time, I said."

"Thanks for your testament to my character." _I doubt you said that directly to anyone. The Court of Owls could kill you if they felt like it, even with your sideshow tricks._

"I meant it was a waste of time because you're a waste of time." Deathstroke was waiting in the grand hall at the bottom of the stairs. Apart from the aforementioned, he could see Amygdala standing guard before the Owls, and there were several people in what looked to be work boots tied to tracks Slade had nailed into the marble floor after pushing the tables against the wall. _You're going to fix that, Master Slade._ The way the tracks were set up, a miniature trolley was waiting at the beginning of the track which lead to a fork. It appeared that four people, masked and gagged were tied to the rails on one track with only one tied to the rails on the track going the other way. _As expected, there's a switch that'll save the four people at the cost of killing the other person._

"Karlo!" Deathstroke started loudly. "Happy Halloween. The Court has authorized me to run a bit of a test." _They expected to capture me alive. Knife would have disappointed them._ "As you can see, Robin, I've devised a particularly _literal_ variant of the trolley problem for you to solve." Perhaps as planned, a masked member of the Court continued the explanation.

"We, Robin, are civilized people and know the reality of the anarchy that would result if mob justice were a serious alternative to the courts. We do not believe in killing at random or for little reason. However, there are times an individual must die for the peace and security of the state. We have allowed Wilson to conduct this exercise to show you the necessary element of being a Talon of the Court, of accepting your right by lineage, of becoming the man you were born to be."

"There's a flaw in your logic. While the exercise is similar in effect, you're not actually incentivizing me the security of the state, you're doing so with the lives of four people. I really don't give a damn about the peace and security of a state that uses bench judgement of innocents, if there were ever a state that needed to be overthrown, that'd be it." As he spoke he noticed no one attempted to interrupt him or physically threaten him. _That's how you know they're serious about the argument._ "Here, however, I actually do care about the injustice of sacrificing the lives of four people, so killing the other person would not serve the purpose intended. Secondly, I assume you chose both the four people and the one person with the awareness that either one of the parties could die. For some reason you consider these people to be expendable." He gave them a moment to correct him.

"How is it that you know we did not use our own members for this exercise?"

"Firstly, this was Deathstroke's idea, not yours. He's opposed Batman's unwillingness to kill since before I've been around, possibly longer than I've been alive. He argues correctly but on false pretenses that Batman limited himself in so doing. These men are people he's spent the last few days rounding up. I can't see much of their clothes through the ropes, but by the fact that they're all wearing work boots, I'm guessing they were the ones who did most of the work with this track." _The fact that the cavalry hasn't shown up at this point is absurd. The only explanation is that they know what's going on in here. They're using it to get into position._

"Very well." A member of the court responded, implying he should explain his point further.

"These are people you consider irrelevant. It doesn't matter to you whether they live or die. There can be no 'sacrifice' of innocent life if you don't care about it, and you make a mockery of being willing to make difficult decisions by posing this very problem before me." Robin argued as his earthen captor dragged him to the track control.

"I suppose we do." A different member agreed. "The question is what motivates _you._ Do you believe these lives are worth something? Do you believe some lives are worth more than others? Can their value be measured?"

"You may be testing my moral standard, but you've already confessed you don't have one. Not as a group, not as individuals. You can't therefore come up with any meaningful judgement for my character. What you're testing is my potential use for you, which is basically what I got out of Clayface earlier."

"Very well. We have heard your argument, but we still need the information we would have by testing. Karlo, let him the use of an arm." One of his own arms came out of the mass of clay and seized the control as the trolley turned on. Grayson threw the switch, changing the tracks.

"Deciding so soon?"

"It's obvious. I don't really have a choice, so I'm killing one person rather than four." The trolley lurched forward as he spoke.

"Batman would never have made the choice you did." One of the Court offered as a matter of interest rather than argument.

"I didn't consider what he would have done in this scenario. This is what I would do. Secondly, I doubt you can be certain of that, since his objection to killing people had nothing to do with it being wrong in the sense that lives have immeasurable value or other options existing."

"I'm sure you'll have a chance to further rationalize your decision later, Grayson. First, it appears we have some guests."


	27. Flight of the Robin 9

Robin had noticed when Amygdala left the room, but he had not expected it when he dragged in several mobsters, Scarface sans Wesker, and the corpse of KGBeast. _Looks like he died after all. I'm guessing Amygdala didn't have any orders to keep them alive._ Jeannette entered independently, though limping with a black eye, a fully costumed Talon behind her. As one of her abdominal wounds healed, the Talon slashed it open again.

"As you can see, Robin, things are different when _I'm_ in charge of security here." Slade explained. "This is why the Court has deliberately concealed my employment." _Makes sense. They also probably had a mole in Blackfire's angry mob. I'd wonder where the rest of them were, but my guess is those who aren't dead have escaped. Even a few Talons would be enough to stop them from getting into the Manor._ "One of my men remembers seeing you at the last meeting. He says you've been impersonating Anarky."

"Ask him about it. I'm not explaining it again." he responded, scanning those few that the monster had elected to drag in. _Why drag the beast in if he's dead? Did he have to prove it? My guess for Jeannette is that they're going to beat information out her for the rest of time. I suppose she should have thought of that before becoming immortal._ One of the normal men stood, dusting himself off. _And he's a mole._

The trolley rolled onward until at last it stopped short before hitting the one masked person on the track.

"I see you've decided to spare your contractor." Robin started, addressing Deathstroke as he cut through the ropes with his sword. "Never let me say anything about you not making good business decisions." The freed man left the room hastily, as would the others as soon as Slade finished.

"The Court considers his life unnecessary, but also convenient." One of the members stated. "The point was to have you make the decision, we have no reason to actually kill anyone for this purpose. Had you delayed, however, that was the second plan."

"That would have been your doing and you know it. Killing this one person would really have been your doing anyway."

"True, from a certain perspective. Consider that you chose to kill one person rather than allow four to die." A glint of light shined in his eye, though he guessed it would have been unnoticed by anyone else around. _What the Hell was that?_

"I specifically stated otherwise. I could kill one person or four. Their deaths of course, would still be on your hands, collectively."

"A question, Robin." Another member interjected. "Would you have still pulled the lever had it been someone you knew?"

"That would depend on who it was." He answered, stalling. _That flash of light I saw had to be intentional. Someone's out there- might be Wesker. I can conceive of how he got past the Talons._ "If we're talking about five random unknown people, of course I can't say one person has equal value as the other four. I can imagine there would be a difference if any one of them were someone about whom I cared. You'll have to forgive me if I haven't played out that exact scenario in my mind with enough variation to have an answer ready."

"Why are the lives of four worth less than one person you love?"

"They aren't, not necessarily. It simply wouldn't make any sense by the definition of 'caring' if I were willing to sacrifice that person for four strangers. The point is, it would make the situation more of a dilemma. The reason it isn't one right now is because I don't differentiate between killing people and allowing people to die. You haven't disproven any aspect of Batman's philosophy or my own because you've completely altered the parameters to make yours the most logical and justifiable decision. Have you asked Batman or me why neither of us have made any attempt to kill the Joker, if that's what this is about? I certainly don't remember it. Instead, you've simply _diagnosed_ us with a solid case of self-righteousness which means you don't have to come up with any explanation for our way of doing things or even listen to us should we decide to explain it." Robin paused as he saw each member of the Court of Owls rise. A Talon started walking in his direction, but a member raised a hand to halt him.

"Your point about the parameters of the test, while legitimate, is difficult to test. Suppose we had captured the Joker, placed him in a box with a piano over it, and allotted him four bullets and declared open season on anyone who happened by. You are similarly confined, but you may again drop the piano on him, depriving him of your all-important fair trial."

"The Joker has already done similar things. Usually by virtue of expecting this test to come about, Batman managed to prevent it. Since, however, that would not be permissible by the rules, the exchange would again be four lives for one, but this would not in any way compromise my ideals as by the nature of the test you've deprived me of the other options that exist every time. In the attempt to simplify the test, you've simply muddled the important details." _I'm getting decidedly disrespectful with my tone, it appears._

"Very well, instead of having the simple version, we shall have the complex version. You are at liberty to track down and kill the Joker at any point in time, whether he is in prison or not. It is not an absolute guarantee that he will escape from prison, but due to his record in the past, we shall award him around a seventy five percent chance of escape, and due to his death toll during each period of freedom, we shall say he will kill fifty two people should he escape. That brings the expected total to thirteen deaths by simply being allowed to live."

"You've asked the simplest and easiest question yet." A blur of motion passed by in the distance. "Lives are important enough, but only as a means to an end. Never has a war been fought for life, the idea is farcical, why give yours for something so similar? It's not hard to produce life, some people do it by accident and life is hardly rare either. Tell me, why is something so everyday, so mundane, fit for exchanging things of value? Freedom, Justice, Truth, why are these worth sacrificing for life? As I learned it, it was always the other way around. Only by sacrificing untold numbers of our own lives were we able to produce this nation upon which you have built yourself like a parasitic insect, a festering wound-" The laughter of a member of the Court interrupted him.

"What will you do about us, then? Are we not the most worthy of death by your estimation? Tell me, how do you expect to keep immortals in prison? How do you expect to get us there in the first place? Your strategy is so laughably full of holes-"

"Maybe you should ask William Cobb if he ever escapes that pit. I don't think he will, but I know he's alive down there. Either way, before long he ends up completely bound and pushed into a cement cast. If you people are so integral to Gotham, I wouldn't mind building the city on your backs." _The trick is getting out of Clayface._ "You made a mistake by making yourselves immortal, you've only made it easier for me. Normal people have to be fed, they have to have visitors- not you. You can't die and you don't have any friends. You think of yourselves like Ra's al Ghul, I assume, but the truth is you're closer to Solomon Grundy. Death would be mercy, but it's a mercy you won't receive." A flow of black like a shadow enveloped an Owl and disappeared into a secret passage behind the Court and immediately the room reacted. Amygdala shouted and swiveled his head around, looking for whatever intruder had taken a superior prisoner. _How are they getting him to react like this? Did Strange work him over? I presume he's still working in town- otherwise the room would already be filled with Fear._

"Robin." A voice started from his wrist communicator. Karlo took note of it. "There's something you need to know."

"Yes?" He asked in a hushed tone.

"Falcone has not been holding out- she has been making preparations. A week ago she raided Joker's supply of his laughing gas. I don't know why, but I think for a trade with White."

"I think I know." He answered, putting it together. "White has something she needs- something she needs for Ivy- and they're coming here so he can get it to her." _Good thing I already have her up to speed._

"What?"

"Batgirl, was it a coincidence that Batman and I faced off against Ivy before we found Clayface?" He asked, knowing Karlo could hear. "I thought it was, or at least the reason wasn't significant. When I was digging through the Shark's files, I found something odd- it was a picture of Hill, sans name. Clayface has been Sionis's mole in the Court the entire time- it was a measure White took to keep him from getting anywhere near Poison Ivy- at least not again."

"Again?" His captor's eyes darted about in an increasingly nervous manner, looking for anyone watching Robin and Batgirl divulge his secrets quietly. _He knows it's relevant to him. He needs to know what we've learned._

"She's more powerful than she's ever been. Karlo's weaker. He had to resort to a trick to capture me. _She absorbed some of his clay, Batgirl."_ He emphasized, remembering not to use her real name. "It's possible she hasn't figured it out- the Court could have just handed it to her and she wouldn't have known the difference. Clayface went looking to Black Mask and the Shark for protection because he knew as soon as she found out, she'd be back for the rest of it. She wants to be able to turn human- all the way."

"She's coming here?" The earthen man asked.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, he's here listening to me."

"Yeah, I saw."

"Do you think he'll be better off running for it?"

"Probably not. They arrive in about five minutes." From the background noise he had been hearing he could tell she had taken temporary refuge on the roof with her captive, whom she had likely already knocked out. _She had the distraction and surprise going for her, so I suppose it's not unreasonable. Either way, she probably knows she'll have a Talon after her before long._ Karlo began to un-engulf Robin, releasing him.

"Look, you don't want Poison Ivy absorbing me, do you?"

"No. I'm going to do my damndest to knock her out if you go after the Court. Amygdala and Deathstroke can't attack you if you take a few of them hostage." _Well, Deathstroke might._ "No, wait, tell them they need your protection." Karlo nodded and released him.

"What are you doing, Basil?" A member asked him as Grayson avoided bullets from Deathstroke, rolling behind the stopped trolley.

"Your lives are in danger. Consider this my effort to earn your trust once and for all." He said as he expanded around them, clearing the distance quickly while Slade cast an empty pistol away, drawing his blade anew as a Talon came to join him. _Both of them have ungodly regeneration- and more than enough skill. Fortunately I really only need to delay them._ Listening out for Amygdala, he heard at last the blind charge of earthshaking footsteps and held onto the trolley as the beast ripped it from the track, looking to see if there was anything behind it. _I'd be dead if I didn't know what he was going to do there. Fortunately, his condition is a rare one, but it's provable and simple enough to understand._ As the red monster raised the rail car above his head, Robin dropped down on it from above, throwing an arm around his neck and clapping hard in the ear. _Helzinger has an actual problem. There's no one in the world more familiar with the need for an amygdala in the brain- and he doesn't have one._ From what he understood, it had been removed by an incompetent doctor, preventing normal functionality.

Slade took to slashing at the legs to get him to drop his cargo while the nameless Talon executed a backflip to charge again once he had taken a step back, only to find his target had heaved the trolley to the exact place where he would have landed, sending him clear across the room. _Helzinger is a sick man. You really brought that on yourself._ Though he had long since learned that the nature of the mind was largely unknowable, Amygdala followed the behavioral patterns of a child and though he detested doing so, Robin could exploit this in combat. _The amygdala is the part of the brain that helps people recognize faces. Identity is necessary, of course, but what's more important is recognizing other people as human, and being able to discern their expressions. As a result of this, Helzinger has never been able to tell the difference between someone wearing a mask and the same person not wearing one. In the same way that clowns fill children with fear because of the difference between the painted expressions and the real ones, making the result look bizarrely inhuman, he is afraid of other people and their faces. Combine that with the unnatural aggression the inept doctor was initially trying to treat, and you've got a real piece of work._

Deathstroke had managed to climb his massive enemy by sticking his sword in the leg and pushing off, but Amygdala was even less receptive to him than his first passenger.

"You limit yourself, Robin. I am without restrictions."

Grayson quickly scanned the surrounding area for Talons, but it was possible they were tied up at the moment, or the Court made it a policy that only a few of them would ever be active at a time. He dodged the open palm strike from Slade and fired his grapnel gun at Helzinger's calf, causing him to pull his leg off the ground and fall forward, unbalanced. The great beast landed atop the hired sword and Robin leapt off his shoulders, landing right next to Deathstroke's mask which he removed before the rage enlarged eyes of Amygdala. The monster shouted and struck his regenerating foe repeatedly, beating him senseless in a matter of moments and running.

"You have a code of honor. Don't talk to me about limits." Robin ordered as he stood over Slade.

"My code of honor requires me to grant my opponents the respect of a killing blow."

"I know about honor. It's like trust. Trust is something very difficult and time consuming to build, and very easy to break." He began simply as he took out his wrist ties, which he had recently restocked. "Thing is, no one can ever trust you. You're just a hired blade. You're respected, feared even, but you lack the character to stand for anything for any length of time. You've killed for Black Mask, you've killed for Blackfire, you've killed for everyone and you've killed their men too. You work for yourself. One day, when the chips are down, you'll decide to exploit the secrets of a previous client for your current client." Sounds could be heard coming from outside.

"I'll never go against my code. My contracted know it."

The conversation was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Warren White accompanied by Sofia Falcone, Poison Ivy, and a mass of armed men, weapons trained on different targets. Robin kicked Deathtroke in the head, knocking him out. _That's one liability out of the way. I hope they put him in a cell with Knife._

"Looks like we've interrupted just as the fun was about to begin. So sorry." The Shark clapped his hands together in an exaggerated gesture of immediacy, taking stock of the room and its inhabitants. Grayson counted at least three guns on himself, seventeen more on the Court. _Clayface can probably only protect a few of them._ "As you may be able to tell, I've upheld my end of the bargain."

"I see." Falcone answered in a deep voice. "Your men may have what they want." One of them paused a moment to speak into a radio. "They know where to find the supply of the gas." She produced a canister from her cloak, which she handed to the unit commander. "A test sample, as promised." _White agreed to come with her and Ivy only as long as he had protection of his own- those men are all his. The reason he's bargaining with her for Joker's laughing gas is because Dr. Pamela Isley over there has been working on it. She's made it safer- probably permanent. Now the Sionis goons won't feel fear or pain on top of being perfectly obedient- the perfect subordinates._

"Falcone." Robin started at a sufficient, but not loud volume. "He's not telling you everything. He-"

"No man ever does, Richard." she responded, unconcerned. "I have Ivy, and soon I shall have what she wants. What does it matter if his men are loyal to him? The minute they move on me, their loyalties will be altered in a heartbeat. You know how well it worked on you." Robin's eyes narrowed. "You see, White is a cautious man and a smart one. He surrendered control of Gotham's underground to me for a mere thirty percent of the city. I agreed to enhance the chemical dependence he uses on his forces because there is precisely nothing he can do to stop me. There is no one who can stand against Ivy."

Grayson heard a mechanical clicking sound.


	28. Flight of the Robin 10

Robin shouted for Ivy to get out as the last piece clicked into place. Ignoring his warning as though it were simply a bluff or a distraction, she continued undeterred toward the Court.

"If any among them stand in your way, do your best to kill them. While a few may remain useful for the knowledge they possess, the remainder are liabilities. Their privilege has at last run its course, and the future will be their end." Falcone concluded her address by clicking open a cigarette case.

"Ivy, Mr. Freeze works for White- I saw him spying on the meeting of Blackfire's mob." He explained as he saw Jeannette slink from the room.

"Richard, you speak nonsense." Sofia rebutted. "Warren here lacks the ego of his employer, who himself has around half that of your male role model and presumably you. He has no plans against me, I already confirmed that with my own intelligence officers by doing a thorough search of his personal computer without his knowledge." _I realize now why he left his documentation of the mob war open- he had every expectation that someone would break in and see it. The trouble is, there's no way this bitch will believe me, unless I start from the beginning.  
_

"Falone, I know this for a fact. Weeks ago, Batman and I raided Penguin's computer system for information as to the location of one 'Mrs. Fries', whose husband claimed she was being kept in a cold storage unit by North Refrigeration." Ivy's tendril-like vines spread from her body. Even using the members of the Court as a shield, Karlo well and truly had no chance of survival. "That company was acquired by a Chinese conglomerate recently, the same one trying to work out a deal with Sionis. I witnessed that conversation myself." _I don't know if it's the same one, but she doesn't need to know that._ "He didn't need the whole company, just the unit- it would have been easy for him to acquire it especially since they didn't have any use for it. Now he's using it as leverage against Mr. Freeze." Falcone briefly considered the summation delivered by Robin, but not with sufficient speed to warn Ivy about the blast from the freeze ray as it flew from the opposite end of the room. _He's been in the manor the whole time- probably the freezer. He could lock it from the inside and no one would be the wiser._ Grayson, reflexes acting swiftly, caught sight of the man himself, standing at the top of the double staircase that led to the second floor.

Ivy barely had time to feel the pain before being engulfed in ice, frozen solid. _Fries knows how not to kill people with that thing- but Ivy isn't human and he probably doesn't care. She's going to die._ Seeing the swift turn of the tides, Clayface detached from the members of the Court, who looked ready to flee with no conscious servants to protect them. _Well, if only one Talon's active at a time, I suppose they can't overthrow you, but that really does a number on your chances of survival in unexpected events like these._ Wrathfully he broke her body to pieces before being almost entirely frozen himself, leaving his head exposed.

"Shark- why?"

"There's a point of fact about which I have to agree with the Court of Owls. Out of control supercriminals are bad for business. It's not really that we haven't been able to control you in the past, but outside of our esteemed scientist, _whom we can control_ , we have no true recourse against you. You may be useful in lampooning as dear Hamilton..." Karlo was nodding more than noticeably. "-but only after you've proven you know your place. I'm sure you won't mind a, shall we say, 'freeze bomb' planted in you?" he asked, making it clear this was not a question in any meaningful sense. "I assure you, should it go off by accident, you will not die." _He's not really in a position to argue with that. White probably plans to use a freeze explosive rather than the man himself to have a greater degree of reliability. He's probably also going to give him his wife back- can't go and entirely ruin Black Mask's reputation, can he?_

As he considered that in all probability, Sionis or White would probably still have some recourse against Mr. Freeze, he readied and launched his grapnel gun, still having it out from when he took down Amygdala. Taking to the grand chandelier in the middle of the room, he dodged the expected blasts from both the freeze rays and the guns as he heard the sounds of the Court making a run for it. _The only reason I'm surviving is because the Shark's men aren't having it._ As the fixture fell from the vaulted ceiling from which it had hung since the eighteenth century, breaking into thousands of pieces on the floor and shattering, scattering, he whipped his grapnel gun, the cable loose from being forcibly disloged as he fell, slinging it in the direction of the scientist and seizing him as would a mad cowboy, activating the thruster to evade the flying bullets on the way down, taking a deep graze in the leg all the same. _They don't have that big a target- all told their accuracy's pretty good._ Landing behind Fries, his enemy was instantly riddled with rounds. _His armor will protect him, but it won't keep him cold, not after that._ Bangs and explosions of ice in the air preceded a dull whine as Mr. Freeze gasped with pain, turning his ray on himself in desperation. _Keep deflecting their bullets for me._ Throwing several Birdarangs from his crouched position, he rapidly extinguished the remaining light in the room, breaking wall fixtures and a fuse box hidden behind a wooden panel. _That'll teach them to invade my home._ In the dark the guns were silenced and he could hear an entirely different altercation.

Falcone had wrestled the Great White Shark to the ground and was strangling the life out of him before being beaten savagely by White's men.

"Retreat, men- the police will be- we've won." They were greeted by red and blue light as they dragged their employer to the doors and opened them. Robin surfaced from cover to find Karlo attempting to work his way out of his frozen bonds, oozing out the top where his head was free.

"Looks like you and I have a score to settle." Clayface began. "You've got nothing in that stupid belt to use on me."

"I don't think so." He answered simply, seeing the new arrival behind his earthen enemy.

"You are going to have a hard time with that." Batgirl stated as she tossed her freeze pellet at his head. "I suppose it came in handy after all. I think I've earned a few more gadgets, Dick." _Probably._

"We'll see. There's another matter to attend." Robin explained as multiple police officers entered with relative haste, surveying the damages and securing the frozen Karlo and Fries, ignoring himself and Batgirl. _They're probably under specific orders from the commissioner. I'll have to thank him._

"What?"

"Riddler's still out. He's been leaving me clues to see if I could puzzle out the central unknown of the mystery within which I've ended up."

"Did they help?"

"If they did, they wouldn't be riddles. He's probably more interested in seeing if I'm a worthy intellectual opponent, though I have reason to believe he suspected otherwise."

"Did he leave you any clues relating to his location?"

"He probably wasn't allowed. I learned that he and Ivy were both under specific orders from Falcone." he speculated, gesturing to her bleeding body the paramedics were addressing. "If she had intended to use them both to rule Gotham's underground, I suspect she had simply come up with a favorable bargain for Ivy, or possibly a genetically engineered blight, I don't really know. I haven't done as much investigating for her faction as I have for Black Mask's."

"I heard about that."

"How?"

"My dad says their forensics expert found no DNA on the plant you gave them, but plenty of evidence it was no ordinary plant." _Speak of the devil._ Gordon entered through the front door, scanning the room. Barbara left his side and grappled up to the second floor.

"Sorry about your house."

"I don't live here anymore."

"We caught White and his men. They resisted."

"That's what I would expect. Any news?"

"We caught Signalman."

"That explains the traffic problems and the bat symbol and the sabotaged electrical equipment, I suppose."

"You suspected him?"

"Yeah. His whole purpose was to reduce Batman's and GCPD's mobility on the streets. Not using the car, I avoided most of the effects, but I suspect he was involved when that truck slammed into us. It's not a glamorous role, but it's subtle as hell. I don't know whether he was working for White or the Court, but it couldn't have been anyone else."

"How do you figure?"

"Professor Pyg and Lynns weren't working on their own. They'd have been willing, sure, but their equipment wasn't standard and in both cases I noticed what I now believe to be Signalman's invisible hand. They can't be controlled, so the Court decided to simply use them as a mechanism of tying up law enforcement and distracting us from everything else that was going on. On another level, they increased public sentiment for plans similar to what Bard wanted."

"You believe him to be a plant?"

"No, he was mostly convenient. There are plenty of people who think and act as he does. His promotion to acting commissioner in place of senior officers, though, that was intentional." _I'd have to believe Hal to be a plant if anyone._

Before speaking Gordon concluded his survey of the room and its damages, or at least pretended to do so. "Who's the new partner?"

"I had thought you wouldn't want to ask." _I suppose I shouldn't treat him like he's retarded._

"It was a matter of time. Girl's independent as all hell, but I can spot a change in her routine. I also notice things that she thinks I won't. Might be she didn't notice."

"You're the best there is, Commissioner." It was a sarcastic attempt at flattery, rather than sarcastic flattery, and the officer understood the nuance. He had more than enough experience with people playing dumb, trying to butter him up, and obfuscating the truth for any of it to actually work ever. _He was probably just asking to see if I'd tell him._

Neither man was any great conversationalist, and it simply ended there. His leg aching, Robin took the stairs to where the police had already taken Mr. Freeze, who only moments earlier had rained down blasts of ice. _He wasn't aiming at me, not really._

In the dining hall he found as expected a great mass of papers, littered about the long table where once a much younger boy had enjoyed a vast array of meals prepared by a certain faithful butler. Among the evidence he discovered a portrait of his own family, the first one, his mother and father as a young man and a young woman, their eyes staring with the same warm, pleasant regard he remembered but no longer felt. He knew he had all the evidence he would ever need or want against the Court, as he was certain that members remained in existence, but at the moment it was almost entirely useless to him. _Barbara's gone- probably trying to be home before her father. It's up to me to decide what to do with whatever's left in here. It'll be up to me if I find anything._

Taking a dark, twisting stair case down to the wine cellar, he was reminded that the Manor had been built in the grand old age before security cameras. Any scanning of the premises for intruders or evidence would have to be done on foot, and with his own eyes, behind the dull glow of the white optics though they were. In the middle of the room he caught sight of a hostage bound and gagged in a chair. Surveying the room quickly, he came to the conclusion that any Talon down there would have been requested upstairs, and he saw and heard nothing besides. The prisoner was a girl in a gray dress, and he revealed gray eyes when he removed her blindfold.

"Grayson." She said simply, voice cracking from lack of use as he took the gag out of her mouth. It was evident she had been tortured, though the exact method was uncertain, as there was nothing apparently injured about her body.

"Who are you?" He asked, already guessing she was a prisoner of the Court as opposed to the other interests. She looked to be about his age, but with them, there was no way to know.

"I'm.. a gift, I think. Sorry." _Her mind has been damaged._

"No you're not, you're a prisoner."

"That's right, sir, sorry." Untying her, she tried to stand, but her muscles had atrophied and she collapsed.

"Do you know William Cobb?" _This is something he'd do._

"Yes." she answered as he picked her up, carrying her up the stairs.

"Who are your parents?" _She's told me all I need to know about what they were doing to her. Now I need to get her home._

"I can't remember. I'm sorry."

"That's alright." He answered as he took her into the dining room. "I'm sure there's something here about you." _If that fails, I'll have to ask Cobb._

As expected he found an abundance of references to 'new blood'. _Of course. You breed for perfection, then you add new blood. Talons are immortal, but if you want new and different ones, you'll still need to be breeding. This is really disgusting._ He glanced at pictures of DNA taken from a microscope. _Genetics. It's their thing, in a word. Everything they are comes from their birth. When they die, as they have today, they can only hope it's all been passed on._ The girl's actual identity was listed along with where they had found her, anything that might be conceivably relevant. Apparently, members of her family had fought in every American war to ever take place, across the sea in the jungles of Vietnam, on both sides of the Civil War, and even conflicts before that. He decided not to tell her as he doubted she knew.

Taking one of the cars left outside by the various parties that had occupied or invaded the Manor hours earlier, he drove south to Bristol township, where he expected he would find the girl's home. Getting out of the vehicle, he found the streetlamp where Cobb had likely taken her. Robin allowed her to exit in the event, if an unlikely one, that she would remember what had happened there. _Ideally she wouldn't, but if she ever remembers who she is, she will. At least doing so now may help me find her parents._ The girl's expression was blank. He had already tried using her name, Jean, but it had no effect. She returned to the car.

The scene had been scrubbed, though only as thoroughly as necessary for the common passerby. _They hadn't considered I would be here, most likely._ He found a piece of glass from where the lamp had broken. Robin imagined the assassin had been waiting, perched atop the lamp, his steel talons digging into the panes. In the dark he heard the footsteps of a man's approach. Drawing his blowgun as he ducked silently behind the hood of the car, he spotted the arrival in what looked to be a Halloween mask. _I'd forgotten. Halloween's tonight._

"Robin. I need to know what you know about this place." It was an earnest voice, one he had not heard. Surfacing, he met the man's masked eyes.

"Do you know who was kidnapped here?"

"Her name is Jean Hale. I need to find her."

"You're in luck." He opened the door to allow the girl to exit, seeing the man waiting for her and approaching with trepidation. "The Court of Owls had her." He explained simply as she sobbed into the man's shoulder.

"They'll pay for this."

"They have. I found her after the fact."

"Tonight I saw a man about to shoot an older gentleman." He said, seemingly out of nowhere. _He's just looking for someone to tell._ "I was on the roof looking around. He couldn't see me and- I just jumped down on him. The old man got away, I think. The other one passed out after we struggled and I called the cops and ran for it. I guess maybe I wasn't looking for her, but- I couldn't stand it. If I couldn't find her, I had to do something."

"Good."

"What?"

"You caught the Calendar Man." The man started laughing under his mask at the notion.

"I guess I have. I've been keeping tabs on these monsters. I knew it had to be one of them who took her. I ruled out Joker when I heard he hung himself in his cell."

"Is that so." The two of them stood silently for a moment as if they both pondered the same odd notion.

"Thanks for finding Jean."

"No." Grayson responded, noticing the rising sun. "Thank you." _There's no way I'm staying awake in school._ "Thank you for everything."

Staring at the source of the radiant light that steadily spread across the world around him, he doubted his memories of Batman would return unless he needed or wanted them.

"Happy All Saints Day, Robin."

He smiled and grappled up.


End file.
